The Legend of Zelda: Book of Mobius
by Sealinkchan
Summary: Fourteen year old Link's a thief with his only living relative. He's after the treasure that will set him and his Gramps up for the rest of their lives. Could be more trouble than it's worth. Magical armor never did fit in a Steam Punk world...
1. Tenacity

I don't own these characters and I plan on returning them in relatively decent condition.

This is a collaborated effort between a friend and me. He gave me the idea and I fleshed it out into a story. I'll try to keep it a weekly update.

—Remembering something someone did or "said."—

* * *

Link threaded through the crowd with practiced ease. His hands were tucked behind his neck, elbows above his dirty brown head. Towering dirty steel buildings belching steam into the dirty air, the streets a strange mix of cobblestone and grating, gray steam wafting from the cracks, beneath the sturdy brown calf length boots. Steam-powered trains spewing thick clouds of black smoke as they clanked above his head, their tracks suspended hundreds of feet above him as they circled the most modern city of the country, Kakariko.

The long sleeves had been cut from the dark green canvas jacket, the wide sleeves of the tattered white undershirt bunching around biceps. The cuffs of the brown cotton pants tucked into the boots, a durable rope wrapped several times serving for a belt to keep them around his thin waist.

All elbows and knees, the long eared boy had yet to grow into his five foot four frame. Thick, ropey muscles corded the rapidly growing bones and making his weedy appearance deceiving. He looked coltish, cheekbones high and slanting on either side of a long blade of a nose. His wide, cobalt eyes flicked about the crowd restlessly, his mind turning over floor plans of the mansion his grandfather gave him.

Most of his hair was pulled into a short tail at the base of his neck. The greasy forelock dipped in and out of his field of vision. Grandfather often scolded him for allowing his hair to grow to such lengths. The fact that it was uncovered threw the old man into near hysterics every morning.

—"Why won't you just wear a hat? All the young lads are now a days! It'll keep that blasted hair from your face!" Grandpa's quarrelsome voice grumped.—

_I'd be damned if I wear a hat._ The long ear boy thought, eyes narrowing as he thought about the last argument over the lack of headgear._ I don't know why grandpa's so hard bent of me wearing one! Obnoxious things…_

"Oi, Hero!"

Link snapped from his thoughts and glanced off to the side at his shuffling grandfather. The tawny eyes blinked up at the taller boy from beneath heavy white brows. A shaggy, snowy beard shrouds most of the dark and wrinkled flesh of the bald man's face. He was a head or two shorter, but was still full of piss and vinegar in spite of his old age. Link still had a few sore spots from the bout of training the day before.

_I'll never get him to stop calling me that. Who calls a thief 'Hero?'_ Link groused, full lips twisting into a slight smile. "What, Gramps?"

"What do you mean, 'what?' You can' think I can climb those stairs meself!" Grandpa scowled good-naturedly up at Link, pinching the exposed skin playfully. "Be a hero and give an old man a lift!"

They slipped onto the side street, out of the way of the noisy steam buggies as they chugged along. A sharp right and they would be at a set of grated stairs leading up the Impa Quarter, where all the wealthy aristocrats lived above the Mido District where the deafening, crowded market sprawled. There was a cableway that would make the trip faster and less of a hassle, but records were kept and the price was steep.

Two thieves barely making ends meat didn't have a rupee to spare for such frivolity.

"Come on, old man. I'll help ya out." The blue-eyed boy grinned, white teeth flashing as he knelt down.

"Not old…I'm seasoned." Gramps grumbled and clamored onto the back, wincing as his sore, stiff body protested. His thin arms wrapped around the neck, face pressed beside a pointed ear as Link supported him as he stood slowly.

The gangly lad began the long, weary trek up the stairs, brows drawn together. Gramps was light, so no problem there. It was distressing how frail and thin his only kin had become.

_It's cause he's always giving me his share of the meal. No matter what I do, he insists I eat it. Wants me strong…but what would I do without him? He finds all the targets and sets up the hits…_

"Go for tha' lonely Mayor's Mansion up there, Hero."

"Cripes, Gramps. I haven't even topped the stairs!" He puffed in exasperation, throwing a look of agitation at the old man.

"I'm not done!" Link earned an annoyed rap on the bare head for the impudence, huffing softly before he continued in low, crackled voice. "Be patient! I need ya to get tha stone that's part of that lovely picture, remember that! It's on the top floor in the reception area. An emerald, you should be tickled ta hear. You're partial to green, right Hero?"

The old man cackled and Link sighed tolerably at the affable jab. He loved his grandfather, but the man seemed to be unusually amused at some of the most commonplace things that Link enjoyed. Be it his favorite color, helpful nature, ease with swords (a noble's weapon, according to the old man), or distaste for headgear.

"Yes, Gramps." Link told the guffawing man. "How big is it?"

"The size of your fist!" He exclaimed softly before holding up his old knobby fist for example. "After we see how the guards are set up, you'll let me go and I'll head back to the flat. It's not so unusual for us common folk to take a gander at thems rich folk!"

Link smirked, blue eyes glittering at the sarcastic lilt to the old man's voice. His grandfather had told him of the Hyrule of old.

—"The old families here, or whatever they call themselves, they don't even come this country originally! You see, after the old royal line died out, outsiders began to invade. You can tell how 'pure' a family is by their ears!" The old man pointed to his own long, pointed shell in illustration and then to Link's. "We come from a magical race, you and I! Blessed by the Gods! I only wish your mother and father hadn't lost their lives in the Steam Riots those years ago."

Gramps faded off for a moment, yellow eyes glazing, as memories seemed to overwhelm him. Link made a non-committal noise and continued to put the lock picks in order inside the leather pouches. He'd heard the story of Hyrule so many times he could recite it in his sleep.—

_Even if we are Hylian, Hyrulian or whatever Gramps claims, no one else seems to know what the hell I'm talking about when I mention it. No prosperous land over a thousand years gone or why some people have a point to their ears. Old man is going daft._

Link labored until he reached the top of the stairs. Twilight glowed across the sky, a sickly orange, yellow, red tinged with grey smut. There was no navy tapestry laced with stars to take its place. No, it was thick covering of dirty clouds that blotted out the moon and stars. The oily lights of the city made the natural light of the night impossible to see.

The blue-eyed thief settled his Gramps onto a bench, leaning back to stretch his tired back. The greenery here was fenced and somewhat forced looking, but plentiful. The brick and masonry was white, sculpted beauty. The road was packed with glittering white gravel, for no steam machine was allowed to ride along the paths. The mayor lived in something close to a palace, soaring over the rest of the mansions with two towers (more like watch towers and observatories) and pillars.

_Gaudy._ Link scoffed, wiping the sweat from his brow. _That money could do some good down there instead of allowing a fat prick live in luxury._

He dropped onto the ornate, white metal bench beside his grandfather, letting his head fall back to rest against the cold metal. The quiet rustle beside him gave away Gramps pulling out the soft cheese that he could gum, due to the few teeth he had left, to pieces before swallowing. Taking the sign for what it was and ignoring the titters from various rich passersby, Link sat up.

Darkness fell and the thief wrapped the leather cuff with the lock picks around each wrist. A thick, lead core baton was along his spine, hidden from view by his grandfather's body. He'd pull it from his canvas jacket when he was inside the Mayor's place. He tugged the sleeves over his wrist guards/pick pouch and adjusted the hidden slingshot tucked in his makeshift belt under the green canvas. He leaned down to adjust his boots, scooping up a handful of rocks in the process and filling his pockets.

Link stood and took a deep breathe before giving his Gramps a lopsided grin. "Be careful on the way home. I'll be quick."

The old man paused, yellow eyes gaining an unnatural light for a moment. The thief felt something stir in the air between them and he tried to identify it. Worry? Hope?

"Be careful, Link." Gramps finally muttered, turning his attention back towards the cheese. "This world needs a hero like you."

"Ma-na. The world did fine before me and it'll be fine after me." The blue-eyed boy replied dismissively, walking towards the feeble trees that sprouted in the area around the Mayor's Palace gates.

The sentries looked bored in their dark gray fatigues, the heavy energy packs weighing on their shoulders. Long hoses sprung from the packs, attaching to the nozzles to spray anything from cement foam to fire gel to piercing jets of steam.

Link swung into the trees easily, knowing his Gramps would have kept talking if there were someone to see. He pulled out his cuff and unwrapped the patterned sash from his leg. It wrapped around his face until only the dark locks and blue eyes were visible. He flitted from tree to tree; careful to make sure the guard's attention was elsewhere before he sprang forward. He rolled from the last limb and into the bushes, keeping his frame small as a man crunched by, yawning.

It was tricky business from then out. When he needed attention diverted, he fired one of the stones against the expensive statues or in the fountains, anything that would make a noise. He had to slip in and out of bushes until they ran out and then time the dashes across the clear paths until he slipped around the palace.

"Huh?"

The new voice should have made the thief freeze, but he clamored up the trellis at his back as the footsteps neared his hiding place. He scurried up until he was above eye level and found himself staring into eight eyes of a nasty spider the size of a dinner plate.

The nasty arachnids were a side effect of all the pollution from the city. There were a number more of the nasty beasties twisted by human tampering. Most stuck to the Lower Levels, where no one had the Rupee to afford someone to exterminate them.

Link hated them with a passion.

Strangely enough, the Walltula didn't attack, but the standoff continued as the guard kicked along the bushes where Link had been settled before. A string of curses announced the guard's lack of interest as he trudged back towards his post.

Link nervously backed down the trellis, careful not to grab the thorny vine that roosted there.

They're even at Impa Quarter. The blue-eyed thief thought in disgust. Someone isn't doing his job.

He pulled the rope from his waist, revealing a thick rawhide belt beneath it. He coiled the six-foot rope and looped it over his shoulder, shoving the baton in the belt. Out came the slingshot and the wary boy loaded a stone into the leather catch.

Crouching, Link shuffled down the edge of the house, the slingshot pointed towards the ground and ready to fire. He peeked around the corner of the palace, not surprised to see a guard slowly walking away. The balcony that overlooked Kakariko and the astonishing view of the Capital Building overshadowed by Darunia Mountain. If his memory served, then the second floor balcony would give the most direct route to the third floor reception area.

The Mayor's residence was like a maze. The first floor was mostly historical documents and museum-like displays. Living quarters were the second floor in the East Tower. The offices and 'public' room were on the West Tower, including said balcony that led into the mayor's official office.

The third floor was primarily for entertainment and hosting. There were balconies there, also, but beyond Link's ability to scale and not be noticed. There were three ballrooms and the reception area. There were two ways, not including the ballrooms, to enter the area. One was a servant's stair that had a secret entrance from the first floor and the other was the grand staircase. It was situated on the opposing side of the building and had a balcony on the second story, also.

Link rolled into the bushes across from the balcony, crouched low and examining the trellis that clung to the wall. Poor, dark blue ivy clung to the latticework. The thief could just barely make out the Walltula and Skullwalltula in the weak orange glow from the city below. He raised the slingshot and took careful aim.

The bit of gravel was released and flew true, slamming into the spider. It died in a crackling groan, dropping to ashes and smoke before it reached the ground. The remaining beasties followed in quick succession unbeknownst to the inattentive guards. Link jammed the slingshot back into his belt, fingering the remaining stones for a quick count. Satisfied, the blue-eyed boy scurried across the gap and began to quickly crawl up the framework, boot toes barely making a sound against the rough brick wall.

He reached the balcony in a few breaths, clamoring over the marble ledge and landing nimbly on the floor. Link fingered all of the large glass-paned doors that he could, checking from alarms. The wooden desk (all wood, mind you. Quite lavish in Link's opinion…wood was so scarce, why bother with a desk of it? So wasteful.) loomed in the darkness. Two flags, country and city, flanked the veranda doors.

_No wires on the door handles._ Link judged. No trips on the other side. _Talk about relying too much on human perception. Then again, who but me would be fool enough to sneak into the Mayor's building?_

He studied the keyhole before tugging out the picks. It was disappointedly simple lock and he flicked it open in a sneeze. He opened the door just enough to slip through, closing it with a quiet click. Thick rugs designed with the Kakariko Seal covered the cold marble floor. Link could barely make out the sculpted work in the corners as he silently crept to the double wooden doors.

A few moments to ensure vacancy on the other side before he opened the door and slid through. Four conventional steel desks in two rows where the secretaries most likely worked. He tread to the door that should lead out into the hallway, taking time to guarantee the emptiness, quickly entering the long corridor and trotting over the thick rugs to the sprawling staircase to the third floor.

_Easiest hit, ever_. The teen snickered.

Faint light filtered up from the stairway, throwing pathetic shadows in the small vestibule. Vases filled with fake plants flanked the landing, abstract paintings covering the wall that only had one door that led to the reception area. The wooden door had an ornate brass handle that was chilly to the thief's touch. He opened the door slowly, surprised when the hinges didn't creak.

A rectangle of illumination basked the reception room's heavily carpeted floor. He closed the door with a soft snick, blinking in the encompassing darkness. He dragged a hand over wall; feeling for the switch he knew had to be somewhere. His questing fingers met the heavy switch and clicked it on. He kept his eyes closed to keep from being blinded from the sudden hum and onslaught of light.

He blinked them open slowly, his jaw dropping at the mural scrolling across the walls. His mind registered two tables beside the two sets of double doors leading to the ballrooms. The servant's stair and third ballroom entrance nowhere to be seen. Couches and love seats lined every wall except the back one. A small table with a thick book on top, surrounded by sturdy chairs was beneath the chandelier in the center of the room.

A suited knight stood guard before the large tree depicted, a heavy axe held in the gauntlets before it. Vines were stylized over the silver steel, the vague impression of a spread eagle design in gold, a green horsetail plume sticking from the full-face helm.

The yellow tinted light spilled from an elaborate chandelier with large bulbs. The dingy illumination did nothing to take away from the stunning beauty before him. The tree's image took his breath away and teased memories he never knew existed into life.

The vaulted ceiling had the metal rafters etched and shaped to resemble thick limbs and vines. A forest in deep greens, blues and browns came to life all around him. He could almost hear the melody of an ocarina floating through the air. Children's giggles rushed into his long ears, images overlaying the mural. The large tree that dominated the wall towered over him in his mind. The many facetted emerald glittered harshly in the light and invaded his memories easily.

A faint voice speaking in an unknown tongue brushed against his ear.

The shimmer of fairy wings before his vision, welcomed and unexpected.

Sorrowful eyes the color of the sky pleading silently.

The weight of a blade and shield on his back, comforting him like an old friend and ominous at the same time.

Invisible winds rustling unseen leaves, the creaking of old wood and the smell of death cloying in his nostrils.

—"HEY!"—

Link's eyelids fluttered for a moment and he jerked from the reverie. The memories slipped from his mind like sand, never to be recovered. He scratched his oily, dark hair thoughtfully, wondering if he'd finally lost his mind. He walked to the tall armor and pushed it lightly.

It was too sturdy and resisted the thief's push, almost as if it were being worn. Link backed away warily, watching the suit. He pressed his hand against the decorated breastplate. It was chilly to the touch. A tap gave an echo, further proof of emptiness.

"Well, ally-oop!" Link murmured cheerfully, easily scaling the armor to reach for the emerald embedded in the marble wall. He braced a foot on each shoulder and reached high, fingers brushing the cool stone.

Jade light flared from the many facets, blinding the blue-eyed boy. His right foot shifted slightly and he frowned, glancing down. No, his footing was fine. He turned his watering eyes back towards the jewel and tried to work it from the wall.

Another shift and sweat beaded on the thief's forehead as he suddenly realized that all was not well. The boy froze completely, breaths coming in harsh gasps as fear found a nice home in his chest. Grinding and scraping sounds erupted into the stillness a heartbeat before cold grip ensnared his ankle and his body suddenly jerked, sent flying. He reached out wildly, catching the chandelier with his left hand and jerked his arm from the socket.

"GAH!" He fell heavily to the floor, clutching his arm and hissing in pain. He grabbed his limp arm, stumbling to his feet and backing up as pain radiated from the useless limb. "Holy HELL!"

The armor clanked and groaned as it raised the axe, the helm turning to watch him as he shuffled until his back hit the wall. He reached out and grabbed the door handle to his right, dismayed to find it locked. The armor took steady steps towards him, slightly hunched over with the heavy axe in a careless, two handed grip.

Whimpering and sweating, the thief slid into the corner. His mind jump-started and he slammed his arm back into the socket roughly. Instant relief washed over the gangly boy and he grabbed the lead core baton with his uninjured hand.

"Bastard!" He growled, circling around the suit.

A downward swing and Link dashed in through the opening in the guard, jumping high and bashing the helm horizontally. It was a sound hit, the helm easily knocked from its post and slamming against the wall with a ringing crash. The thief landed nimbly and paled in numb terror.

A chain mail hood was under it, still in place and very much empty.

The suit made an annoyed groan, swinging its left arm and sending Link into the wall.

His left shoulder protested madly from the whack and Link blacked out as he crashed into the stone barrier, jarring his only good shoulder. Bouncing away, he landed unceremoniously on the floor. He groaned, vision slowly returning as he pushed his torso up with his good hand. The vivid carpet under him blurred and seemed to have inverted colors for a moment. Hearing returned next, the heavy thuds and clanging footsteps coming as if from a tunnel.

He stood up and struggled back just as the axe landed heavily where he'd just been laying. It bit through the carpet and he could hear it chip the stone floor. The long-eared boy clambered to his feet, circling around the struggling armor. He jammed the baton into the shoulder joint and levered the left arm from the socket.

It clattered to the floor as the axe was freed, the armor stumbling back a few steps. Link danced backwards, heart pounding wildly at the lack of flesh beneath the steel.

_Hell and Damnation! What in God's name is this thing? How do you kill something that can't be hurt?_ Link ducked a wild swing, flipping backwards and out of reach.

The armor followed, swaying with the momentum of its attacks. Link dodged and danced about the armor, trying to find an opening. He couldn't parry such a heavy weapon and steel didn't have the same weaknesses as flesh. He grabbed the sturdy chairs and began to chuck them wildly. The thick volume followed and another chair. He even threw his rope in desperation.

The armored suit batted the objects away, slashing them in the process. The rope was rendered useless from the axe blow. Link was toeing the line of panic when his hand grasped something cold and hard. He lobbed it carelessly, astonished as the emerald made a hasty path towards the suit.

"NOOO!" Link reached after it mindlessly, eyes wide with alarm.

The armor suit seemed shocked also, for it tried to jerk away from the soaring jewel.

The green stone collided into the suit's chest, blazing brightly as a metallic shriek ripped through the air. Link squeezed the blue eyes shut, screaming in tandem as he jammed his fingers into the aching ears. Pain flared and blood flew as the armor exploded and bits of metal ripped through his clothes and dug into flesh.

He uncurled quickly; ready to dodge the next blow when he realized that the armor had blown apart. The axe was fixed in the wall about an inch from where he'd been cowering. Eyes wide and chest heaving, his gaze jerked about wildly and saw the entire room was in shambles. Metal shards were fixed into anyplace they landed. Couches were shredded and crumpled heaps. The mural was trashed completely.

Link scrambled up shakily, fretting over what condition the emerald would be in.

_Gramps'll kill me if that damn stone is in pieces!_ He thought giddily, his mind skittering away from the obvious problem of the racket he and the suit of armor made.

The blue-eyed thief was startled to see the jewel in one piece and just as shiny as ever. He snatched the stone from the cratered breastplate, body beginning to tremble with pain and anxiety, as the shouts grew louder from the main staircase.

_Need to get out!_ His mind screamed and he slammed into the wall where the servant's stair would be. If he tried the two ballrooms, he could be trapped. He didn't think he could get down without drawing attention to himself and the rope was now in pieces thanks to his panicked actions. He'd shoved the worthless line in his pockets, not wanting to leave anything behind.

—"Tha only calling card a thief should leave behin' iza empty chest, Hero! Never leave anythin' that can be tracked to you later! Yer not in this for tha glory, but the treasure!"—

He knocked the wall furiously with the baton until he heard an echo; his fingers traced the outline of the door through the mural's backing. He tucked the baton into his belt and pulled out a thick lock pick, slicing through the parchment and paint until he mapped the door edge. The door yielded to his furious kicks and he hustled through and slammed it shut.

Darkness swallowed Link and he scuttled down the stairs, not bothering to try to hide the noise. Dust covered everything thickly. The air seemed coated with it. He could feel it gritty and dense as his fingers trailed along to wall to keep track of his position. He could hear the pounding of footsteps echoing on the other side of the wall. Shouts to call everyone to the third floor reverberating.

He reached the first landing and jolted to a stop, not having realized there were no more steps. The hands caught the battered body before it slammed against the wall. His hand felt two handles, but neither door opened. He forced deep breathes through the scarf covering his face, grateful that the clothe filtered the air.

Link kicked the door that let to the outside open, his rising hysteria lending him strength. He wasn't surprised to see the entire courtyard empty and dashed through the yard without a second thought. He needed to get away and FAST.

Link stumbled into the flat two hours later, exhausted and soaked. His temper had not faired well in the merry chase he'd led the pursuing Provost's Guard. They'd used hounds to follow his scent, so into the disgusting sludge of the artificial river in response.

Out of the sludge and into the street, he'd broken one persistent hound's neck. He'd circled the lower levels of Eastern Talon Ward and Western Rauru Ward, using the maze of pipes to aid his escape. Scents did not stick well to the mixed metal pipes and hallow grated catwalks and decks. Sadly, he'd also acquired a few burns for his troubles.

No one attempted to halt his progress; mostly because it was obvious he was from the Lower Levels, but they did hassle the Provost's Guards. He was also covered in god knew what and probably carrying the plague. It was also thanks to the mire that no one could be sure of his identity.

He'd stopped off at a spigot and rinsed the nastiness away, using a sliver of soap someone had left behind and stripping to his loincloth. It'd been a pain to clean the crap from his clothes, but he didn't want too much evidence left when he traveled back to Ruto Twists, where his flat was situated.

He just wanted to fall into his pallet and die. The emerald weighed a ton in his pocket and he'd been paranoid traveling in the lower levels, no matter how necessary it'd been. The thief'd been lucky not to stumble on any twisted bits of nature.

What he hadn't been expecting was his Gramps settled by the steam furnace with cheese, stale bread and bits of tough meat. The old man looked perfectly content, his twisted aluminum cane at his side and a cracked, steaming cup in his withered hands.

"How the HELL did you get back before me?" Link burst out, the usually controllable temper flaring past his control at the sight. It'd taken three hours for them to get to Impa Quarter and Gramps had Link to carry him through most of it. It should have taken just about as long for him to return by his lonesome.

"Cableway and Trolley." The old man pointed out with a wicked gleam, taking a careful sip from his cup.

The teen trembled with indignation. He'd been crawling like a gutter leech through SLUDGE and his Gramps had used what little Rupees they had for his comfort. Digging the emerald from his pocket, he pitched the jewel at the old man. He wasn't surprised at the perfect one-hand catch Gramps executed.

"Hora, hora! Someone's in a tiff!" The old man teased, giving a gap-toothed grin and setting his cup on the floor s he could hold the stone in both hands.

"That costs Rupees, Gramps! There weren't any pots in that damn mansion, so how the Hell am I supposed to make up for what you used?!" Link chastised, voice low so he couldn't be heard through the walls, but still intense.

"Go cut some grass with your sword, Hero." He flapped a hand dismissively.

"There is NO grass and I don't have a sword, senile git!" The boy snapped, fists on his hips.

Gramps just cackled in response.

"Why didn't you tell me that some creepy suit of armor would attack me?" He demanded angrily. "You know about a stair that hasn't been used in YEARS and don't know about magical armor?"

"There wuz someone in armor waiting?" The old man sounded perplexed.

"No! There was no one in it!" He clarified.

"Crackbrained. How could it move withou' someone in it?" A fuzzy brow cocked in question, tone disbelieving.

"How the Hell should I know!?" Link demanded and flopped onto the floor beside the heater. He just wanted to dry out.

"How didja beat it?" Gramps asked, sounding indulgent. When the teen huffed in annoyance, he leaned close to the youthful face tainted with brown dye from the various dips he'd been submitted to. The dark hair had a subtle honey glow in the weak light.

"What?" The blue-eyed thief snapped at the inspection, leaning back.

"Ya don' look crazy. I guess ya can' tell by just looks." The old man mused aloud, looked entertained by the indignant growl from the younger boy. "Grab tha cloak behind you n' hand it here, there's a Hero."

When the teen twisted around a sharp rap on his skull made him jerk around and snarl. Gramps stared at the cane in his hand in mute shock.

"You're right, Hero! It just jumped right up and started to pound on ya! Magic exists and it's out to get YOU!" A knobby finger trembled as he pointed it at the blue-eyed teen, eyes wide and wild.

Link scowled.

Gramps cackled madly and slapped his knee with his free hand.

"Look! I got pro— " He started, but stopped. The deep gouges from the metal shards were gone. There was a slight ashy residue in some of the profound wounds, but clean otherwise. Maybe he was just losing his mind.

Magic didn't exist. It was all slight of hand and puppetry. No, no. He'd been imagining things. There must have been someone in the suit. How else would the chain mail have remained formed? He'd just been too engrossed to notice.

"Regardless!" He switched tactics, his injuries exploding into life now that he was safe. "I need a few weeks to heal. My shoulder was dislocated."

"Poor Hero." The old man tutted softly, taking a slow sip. The emerald was now in his lap. Link couldn't help but wonder where the hell they were going to keep it. It was a noisy thing and would gain them unwanted attention.

"What'll we do with that?" He didn't fight his brows from creasing with worry.

"There're two more, like I said. They'll open up tha greatest treasure known when we've gathered them all." The old man murmured, fingers caressing the jewel as if it were a cat.

"We'll need food while I rest." He pointed out bluntly, lying back as his body began to throb. Everything was just too much right now. He needed sleep.

"We're stocked up. Stop worrying so uselessly. Ya act as if I'm the child. Relax, Link. I got everything worked out."

A/N: There you have it. Feel free to review, but no flaming unless it's constructive towards making the Fic better.


	2. Efficaciousness

Sorry, this one's a little late…enjoy!

—Remembering something someone did or "said."— **Dream**_Thinking_

Link's dark head vibrated against the steel paneling, the steady thuds serving to lull the tired teen to sleep more than wake. Disjointed images flowed through his mind, jumping and shifting with each heartbeat.

**An iris drifting from the sky, rain falling around it in thick drops in slow motion.**

**A castle disintegrating in the middle of a mad windstorm, pinwheels blurs in the raging zephyrs.**

**Standing in the middle of the gale, flowers dancing on the air. He turned his face up, watching the rain descend from a gray sky.**

**He stopped looking at the purpling sky as the rain dwindled to nothing and was mildly surprised to see he was in his flat.**

**The suit of armor loomed, axe raised, as Link remained rooted in the spot. He wanted to move, wanted to scream, wanted to close his eyes, but all functions were wrested from his grasp.**

**He had to warn his Gramps. He couldn't get the air in his lungs to cry out.**

**Breathe! Breathe! BREATHE!**

**He could hear his breathing, rasping and heavy, but couldn't work his throat.**

**Need to warn Gramps! Need to call him! FUCK! GRAMPS!**

**Shining silver crescent of the blade was all he could see. It wouldn't stop until it had the emerald back.**

A sharp jerk awoke the twitching teen, the warning cry thick on his tongue. His lungs labored to drag in air in quick gasps, blue eyes scanning the area nervously. Twilight woven from pinks, oranges, and purples gave the car weak light from the open door. The contents of the dreams sifted from his mind, burned away by the setting sun. A vague sense of unease remained in its wake, causing the gangly teen to tuck his body against the cask more firmly and pull the dirty rags close.

The magic armor had never quite left his mind and the emotions it invoked were confusing. He'd tried to convince himself that it'd never happened, but his mind conjured the images in his weakness. He was afraid to encounter another at Malo's.

—"The ruby is on the scepter in the high Malo president's private office."

Link nodded, staring at the floor plans before him. He traced out a route with his finger, only half paying attention to Gramp's words.

"How big is the ruby?" He murmured, eyes flicking over the map to the factory yards. It was to the southeast and would take a train to get to. God forbid it's the same damn size as that blasted emerald.

"Bigger then yer fist…" Gramps murmured, eyes searching something far away and missing the wince from his grandson. He focused on the now neutral face of the young thief. "Shaped different, though."

"That's a relief." He replied in a soft, caustic tone. "Wouldn't want it to be the exact same."

"Oh, quiet! A little variety never hurt anyone." Gramps chided with a gape toothed grin, guffawing at Link's unimpressed scowl.—

Coughs and wheezes flared periodically from the other illegal riders. Link had joined the other freeloaders in the near empty car destined for the yards. A movement in the corner of his eye and he jerked his head over, hand poised over a popular area to hide a dagger.

"Keep them twitchers to yerself, or I'll relieve ya of 'em and yer peepers fer my trouble!" Link growled just above a murmur through teeth bared in challenge.

The crafty eyed bindle took heed of the threat and backed from the teen.

"Easy buck…Jus' wanted ta make sure ya wuz alrigh'." The dirty beggar soothed in an oily voice that dripped with pacifying lies. He raised his grimy hands in peace, looking like a pile of dirty rags as he backed away.

_And Gramps wondered why I didn't want him coming with me_. The thief thought bitterly, not liking the thought of his grandfather being accosted by the freeloaders that shared the car.

The blue-eyed thief settled, but his eyes were narrowed and hard. His brief disorientation had invited would be attacker. How long had the bindle worked towards him in his sleep? Weakness was dangerous in a situation such as this. He had no dagger, but no one would be willing to risk being lamed in order to test the warning.

He didn't look worth the effort being as weak and underfed in appearance and rags no better than theirs draped over his body. Soot stood out over his pale skin like bruises, his black hair greasy and wild. As average as any mudlark that had grown up in the Lower Levels or in whatever equated in their own original sets.

The long-eared boy was so tired of the never-ending battle in the Wards. Walltulas, Skulltulas, and the average human threats dwelled there, making a struggle for food, shelter and rupees.

Now drinking water was becoming scarce as a draught began to settle in.

He wanted his Grandfather's final days to be ones of comfort. Life was nasty and rough down there. No matter how much spit and vigor the old man held claim to, Link knew his time was drawing near.

The teen was too young for honest work. He would make a decent roué if he cleaned up and had half a mind for it. Women were drawn to the blue of his eyes that varied in shades, from the azure of clear skies that no longer existed to the deep navy of expensive glass that would never grace the Lower Levels. His empathetic nature and easy smiles added to the allure of coltish teen. However, selling his body didn't appeal to the thief at all.

The Provost's Guard wouldn't take him till he reached sixteen and, in the words of his Gramps, he was too tender hearted to not break under the stress. There was only so much a law enforcer could achieve. All the child stealing, slavery rings, murders and rapes that went unsolved would weigh on his soul.

Lower mudlarks were no longer trusted to run messages. Not after the gang that had used the message running to set up hits. Once their ring had been broken, so were most legit possibilities beyond back breaking labor.

Thievery may chafe the teen's spirit, but his grandfather made it a necessary evil. To keep his family alive he would do damn near anything.

The factory yards were sprawling and just as unattractive as the pipe riddled Lower Levels. Of course, the yards had an official name but no one referred to it as Trohston any more. Everything from electricity (fueled by steam from coal) to widgets were crafted and distributed from the pollution discharging eyesores against olive tainted clouds cloaking the sky.

Spires pierced the helkin, often accompanied by great stacks that belched soot laced haze constantly. Unnaturally colored fires burned crowned tall columns. Cables and lines traces through the sky, giving power to the sprawling cities that could afford it. Even in the weak subdued light, Link could see the soot and rust staining the metal in thick lines.

Unlike the bowl-like city of Kakariko, Trohston wasn't built on layers. It sprawled out over the flat land with entwining streets leading around each factory. There was a living quarter, unnamed to Link's knowledge since it didn't aid in the job, and the Barterluck Lane connected the North and South border.

Since Barterluck was connected to everything one way or another, Link was traveling down the sidewalk at a lazy clip. He'd cleaned his face and ditched his gutter garb where he could reclaim it for the ride back. The faded jade canvas coveralls were a size too large, the cotton webbed belt loose around his waist. The tattered cuffs dragged against the brick street, his stolen working boots scarred and gray instead of black.

A sweaty handkerchief was rolled and tied across his forehead, hands tucked in his pockets as he ambled through the throng of off duty workers, blending perfectly. Link's young age wasn't even worth noticing since a pair of boys barely ten years and covered in soot from the coalmines trudged by. Factories seemed to thrive from the pre-pubescent workers; their smaller bodies and hands doing jobs that were harder for adults.

He ignored the hawkers and the scent of toasting gutter rat choking the air. His belly did make demands for the skewered rodent and bird, but knowing that it would leave his bowels protesting the greasy flesh later, he decided against it.

"You, lad!" A voice cut over the crowd. Link ignored it, mind playing over the turns he would have to take to reach Malo Enterprise. "You there!"

The back of his neck pickled and the air seemed to press against his shoulders, warning of someone getting too close. Link turned and sidestepped enough to avoid any grasping hand. He could have jerked away completely, but he didn't want to give away too much. A factory worker wouldn't be so quick and aware of his surroundings a thief. That and his baton rested along his spine and the lock pick containing bracers hidden by the sleeves, the cuffs buttoned tightly around his wrists.

"You look like a lad ready to change the world!" The stranger proclaimed with a pointing finger. Men walking around the market paused to stare, bemused as Link gaped at the slightly taller man. There was a strange clockwork contraction hugging the right side of his head and over his left eye. The lens zoomed in and out randomly; the hissing, whirling click of the machinery could be heard over the murmuring crowd. The uncovered eye was a deep green and flickering with humor.

"Haa?" He articulately asked, trying to subtly back away. The man was dressed in a gold embroidered black vest with a full-sleeved white cotton undershirt and bowtie around his stiff collar. The pants were black leather and expensive with brass buttons along the side of both calves and good black boots. The long-eared teen noted the strange weapon holstered on the right hip, wooden inlays over a steel skeleton with small barrels attached to the belt.

"Together, lad! We can change the world together!" He leaned close and Link pulled his face away, noticing that the unruly curls were so brown they were almost black, shot with tiny strands of silver at the part. "Have you heard of….electricity?"

The stranger said it with such reverence and secrecy that Link was confounded for a moment.

"The Power Plant is just—" Link began, pointing vaguely in the direction.

"Do you even now how it's created?" The man interrupted, slapping his hands onto the shorter teen's shoulders and leaning close to the face as if to stress his point. His breathe, the blue-eyed teen couldn't help but notice, reeked of liquor.

"Actually, the coal is used to—" Link stared, jerking from the man's touch as his temper began to boil.

"Look what it does to our environment! The burning rain and thick air!" The man play sniffed, wiping a finger under his eye. Sadly, the thief didn't stay long enough to enjoy the performance, already turning and trying to meld back into the crowd. "Ah! Boy!"

The blue-eyed teen walked faster, but the older man caught up and started to walk quickly beside him. The thief never had a twitch before but he could feel one developing.

"You're sharp, boy! Together we can create clean energy! Then we won't have to worry about the monopoly on the unexplainable electricity everyone preaches—"

"Electricity isn't unexplainable." Link snapped, directing a bothered glare up at the taller man. "You make it sound like magic."

The stranger gave the shorter lad a bemused glance. "You don't believe in magic?"

Link snorted to show his opinion before stating blandly, "It doesn't exist."

"Together we can make magic, my friend! Come, be my apprentice! Professor Chris Houlihan and, what's your name, lad?"

"I'm not your friend and I'll not join you. I have WORK. I'm sure the concept is lost to you." Link informed him coldly, eyes glittering like ice. Houlihan pulled back from the subtle warning and watched the bristling teen integrate into the crowd.

Link panted in the middle of the trashed office. He'd walked in slightly worried at the sight of twin suits of armor with huge axes standing across from one another. His fear had been foolish for neither attacked as he began the search.

He'd opened every wall safe, drawer and broken every pot and came up empty. Even the ceramic rupee piggy bank was in pieces, more from frustration than actually searching. The only thing he'd found there had been a handful of flowers, which only confused and enraged the thief.

"Nothing, nothing, nothing!" He growled, fists tight at his sides. "One hundred and fifty-four rupees and three flowers is all I get for my trouble! There're not even nice flowers…"

Link dropped into the tailor seat and held his head in his hands. _Where the hell was the scepter? The company president had to be tipped off somehow. Who would make the connection between the jewels as Gramps had? They obviously think they can stop me with this._

The thin face hardened and he lifted his head. No way in hell would he just let this go. He was going to find that damn stone if he had to kill someone.

The thief walked through the busy Barterluck traffic, clad in stolen non-descript breeches, the same scarred boots, and a long sleeved white shirt laced to his throat. The noon sky only filtered gray tainted yellow light into the street, not doing much for the teen's somber mood.

He'd left the office in good order, only taking off with the pot and piggy shards to remove the evidence of his tampering. Losing his temper last night had probably given away his presence.

_Now the company president will know his fears were well based. Damnit! I'd like to find the fucker who tipped him off! I'll give him something for his troubles he wouldn't forget!_ He thought crossly and then sighed as his rage melted away. _Aw, well, nothing to be done about it now. If I get too worked up, I'll just bungle the damn job more._

He'd spent the remainder of the night curled on a lonely catwalk in the Wellon's Widgets, contemplating how he was going to find out where the damn scepter was hidden. His grandfather's words running through his mind:

—"People always gab like fools, Hero. Go to the market and just listen. People always wanna talk about new things, old things and odd things. Don't dismiss any of it. Take it in. You can piece it all together an' learn sommat."—

He navigated the stream of humanity with a quiet comfort. It was remarkably like Mido District, only the clothing and scenery altered subtly. Conversations flowed easily and the long ears twitched slightly as they filtered through the throng of noise.

"The bitch was with Jasper!" "I don't want to work this God's Day! You'd think—" "The weather is god—" "My wife wants me to—" "Can you believe—" "Cursed hard to care when—"

"I heard Malo's was broken into…" Link suppressed a wince at the last comment. He really had been an idiot to let his emotions rule him. It'd been one of the first lessons his Gramps had beat into his head; never act out of anger on a job. If things don't go your way, then you take a step back and figure out how to manipulate them until they did.

The gossip about his unsuccessful robbery circulated easily and Link ignored them easily. He bought a tart apple turnover with his stolen rupees, nibbling on it thoughtfully as he continued to stroll. The talk was random and less than helpful. All he could piece was that life was dreary here and women here whooped their men. That and a thief broke into Malo's. Soon he'd have to start scouting out factories and looking for increased security and such.

That would take precious time that the teen didn't want to spend. The yard sprawled over countless acres. He would spend days in the hellhole. This place was no better than the Wards. He was careful to avoid the obvious thieves and enforcers that milled in front of the wealthier shops.

"I've been hired to walk the Sakon yards for the next few nights—"

The teen paused and backtracked, pretending to inspect a stand with withered fruit.

"Sakon Inc? They're small time! Why are you getting work there?" A factory worker scuffed, his uniform announcing his employment to Sharp and Flat Corps. The man he spoke to was a burly enforcer with nasty sword scars over his face and hands. "Make sure they can pay you!"

"They just got bought out by Malo Enterprises." He yawned and Link picked up an apple, pretending to have trouble deciding between it and a pear. "Gorman (it took a moment for Link to remember that to be Malo's president) is paranoid about something, or that's what I heard. Beefing up security. Who am I to complain? Fattens my purse. Though the late nights bite."

"Gorman's a dumbass. What's he trying to do? Invite a thief to try to find out what he's hiding?" The worker snickered as Link exchanged rupees for a pear and drifted away from the pair.

_So, I need to find Sakon Inc. Would it be in the yards or the building?_ The teen wondered idly, gnawing on the tough fruit and rolling the sandy flesh around his tongue. _This is where I need Gramps. He was much better than I at this._

Link slipped into the main office of Sakon Inc. It'd been easier slipping passed all of the enforcers milling about the yard and through the hallways. They weren't trained to be anything but hired muscle to catch thieves in the middle of lifting, not sneak thieves.

It hadn't been too hard to figure out that the scepter wasn't anywhere outside. The hired men clustered around the Chief Office (or so the sign over the front door claimed), looking bored and not really paying attention.

At first the long-eared teen contemplated on the man, Gorman, was trying to divert attention from the main factory over the eight foot chain link fence. After a few moments, he decided he was giving him too much credit. He snuck onto the roof and found an open window for the head secretary's office for his pains.

The lock was simple to pick and closed just as silently. There were no windows, but a skylight that poured insipid moonlight onto the concrete floor. The office was relatively bare compared to the main office at Malo.

The desk wasn't very impressive; it didn't even have much in the way of drawers. It was cheap aluminum and Link could tell that there were no secret compartments after a quick inspection. The thief propped his fingerless gloved fists on his hips, clad in the dark green coveralls and face covered with the black scarf.

_Where would the idgit hide the damn scepter?_ He mused as he paced past the pictures lining the wall slowly, eyes scanning them carefully._ It better be in this office. If I have to spend one more day in this blasted town, I'll make that man sorry as hell._

The gangly teen paused before a large portrait of strange round, rocky creatures. They were crushed against each other in a fierce embrace, legs obviously stressed in as they struggled to push the other away. It was…interesting and Link tried to shift the heavy frame and was rewarded when it opened to reveal a wall safe.

"Well, hello, hello." The blue-eyed thief grinned and settled his ear as he turned the dial. Shoddy safe that it was, Link had it open after a few heartbeats. He hummed softly beneath his breath, swinging the vault door open.

The two foot long scepter lay in the bed of blue velvet. The silver light shimmered over the golden rod, the inlay giving the impression of flames circling up to cradle the ruby shaped as a three-tongued flame.

He traced the sensitive pads of his fingers over the gold reverently. It sang beneath his fingertips, his vision hazing over.

A rumbling roar filled his ears, heat making his skin crisp slightly.

A serpent-like dragon with scales the shifting color of scarlet and orange. It spewed liquid flame from its gaping jaws, twisting and tangling wildly in the air.

A crying rocky creature sat before him, heartbreaking in his misery.

A jarring thud, he slammed bodily against a rocky creature, feeling as if he were trying to move the mountain.

Whispers of heat, heart-felt friendship, hollow caverns echoing with gravely chatter.

A man wrapped better than a thief, gold hair peeking from the bandaging and a strange weeping eye symbol on his breast taking slow steps backward.

A crack and blinding white flash.

Link blinked and swayed slightly, his head light and spinning. The images swirled and dissipated like smoke, leaving him feeling surprisingly serene. He shook his head, clearing his sight and attempting to put his mind back on track. Befuddled, the thief grabbed the cold scepter and pulled it from the safe. He grabbed the stone and shut his eyes just as the predicted flare of ruby light.

A crash, metallic thud, dull gravely crunch and tinkling glass hitting cement made the teen's stomach clench in dread. Whirling, clicking, and clacking of gears and springs filling the air was causing a fine film of nervous sweat to break over the long-eared teen's skin.

He turned, holding the scepter in a two handed grip. Another suit of armor knelt before him, a spiked ball and chain loose in the gauntlet grip.

"You've got to be joking." He whispered, face pale and strained. He popped the ruby free with a savage twist, stuffing it down the front of his coveralls. There'd be no chucking this jewel like an idiot. He held the scepter in one hand and freed his baton with the other.

The armor straightened threateningly, groaning and scrapping, to an intimidating seven feet. A faint crimson crest of the spread eagle scrolled across the chest plate, barely visible in the gloom. The chain rattled and hissed against the floor, ominous to the thief's ears. The huge spiked ball had cratered into the concrete. It hefted the weapon effortlessly, swinging it around the red horsetail-plumed helm. It whooshed, the air rushing against the thief's face.

Link dodged the first shot, watching the heavy ball pulverize the safe beneath its bulk. He scrambled over the chain and dashed in for a strike as it reeled back in the ball. He slammed the helm with his forearm re-enforced with the baton. It clanged and jarred his shoulder badly, but the helm was crushed like a tin can under the blow.

Weak light revealed the clockwork within and the blue-eyed teen wanted to faint with relief. It wasn't magical. Its movement was explainable and easily taken care of…as long as he didn't lose his head in the process.

He rolled away as the armor took a wild swing to bash him to pulp. The chain snaked out when he stopped in a crouch, the thief jerking to the side just as the weighted end whizzed by his ear.

The clockwork knight spun the ball in one hand and the chain in the other. Link panted as it advanced slowly. He could hear shouts from behind the office door, the rattling of someone trying to force it open.

_I don't remember locking it!_ He thought giddily, evading the soaring ball and darting forward. _I don't remember Gramps mentioning another set of armor, either! Where do they get these things? Are they breeding? Is there a damn farm somewhere?_

He ducked under the chain, an arm swung out and he bent backwards and watched it pass his nose. Swinging up, he jammed the scepter into the crotch, feeling it grind into the gears controlling its legs. He scuttled from beneath the legs, the currents from the spinning chain disturbing his dirty hair.

The air rushed from his lungs a moment before the pain registered in the teen's panicked mind. A blow from the iron fist gave him a chance to fly, the gangly teen landing roughly on the well-positioned overstuffed couch. The furniture collapsed with the sudden influx of weight and Link rolled off as the spiked ball followed his path to demolish what was left of it.

Link gasped madly, crawling like an animal to avoid flying bits of couch frame. It didn't escape his attention that the knight was still in place, but the torso could swivel easily in circles to follow his movements. It'd reeled in the ball and chain, already swinging it and preparing to aim.

_How the hell am I gonna stop this thing? It's a damned pain!_ Link thought before catching sight of the cheap desk. _I'm retiring! Retiring! I'm running away to Darunia Mountain and live as a hermit!_

He leapt on top of the desk, skittering over the other side and scuttling to his hands and knees. The whirling whoosh sound became a whistle and Link threw himself from behind the fixture as the spiked ball connected with the metal desk and collapsed it. The frame snapped and broke, the sturdier pieces becoming deadly missiles as they exploded from the impact.

The teen's blood was running hot and his ears rang with the clash of steel on steel. He jammed the baton back down his back and yanked two steel rods from the plaster wall. Bracing himself, the thief rushed forward in a crouch, eyes narrowed as his mind flitted from idea to idea like a nervous bird.

The armor seemed the guess the teen's intentions and switched from the pulverizing ball to the weighted end. The chain soared forward and the unnerved thief threw the heavy steel bar in its path.

It didn't stop the chain, but it did knock it off course enough to no longer be an immediate threat. Link did a roll to the side, hooking his arm around an immobile leg and scaled the torso. The armor spun wildly, trying to swing the squirrelly teen from his body. The thief held on for dear life, face set and eyes squeezed shut as he ignored his roiling stomach. If the armor kept it up much longer, he was going to hurl and they'd both be a fine mess.

Ignoring the wind roaring in his ears, he shimmied up the rotating torso enough to catch his arm around the crumpled helm. A gauntlet swung up and the torso quit moving. The sudden stop was just as disorienting as the movement. He felt the fingers fist into his coveralls. He took a deep breath and jammed the remaining bar into the delicate clockwork.

The body shuddered and he was yanked up, but not sent flying. He hung from the halted armor's grip like a rag doll. He could hear springs bursting and gears groaning till they snapped under the strain.

Wheezing frantically, the wide-eyed teen watched the armor for any hint of movement. He would have taken time to ensure that it was finally dead, but the sounds of angry men on the other side of the door prevented it.

The thief kicked his legs until he gained purchase on the broad shoulders. He wiggled and finally had to tear the coveralls to free himself from the rigid grip. He didn't bother with the leftover cloth.

He was only a foot below the busted skylight. Sweat began to glide down his temple as he freed his baton and knocked the loose glass from the frame. Glad that the thick leather on the gloves would protect his hands, he grasped the edge of the frame and hauled his body up. He swung up, legs catching on the gravel covered roof.

He was completely on the roof when the door splintered under the battering of the enforcers. Link was already halfway across the roof as they took in the bewildering scene before them.

Due to the heightened security, the jittery thief took the long way out of the yards and into another. He ran through the maze of factories, high on adrenaline. Getting back to that train stop was first and foremost on his to do list.

_The train'll leave in the morning. Dammit all to hell! I don't wanna travel with this gaudy thing on my chest with all those bindles!_ Link groused, nervous sweat soaking his coveralls.

His back would be one big bruise by the time morning arrived to the smog filled city.

_Next job is the last…I've barely hit puberty and I've already had two near death experiences!_

A/N — I wanted to write more, but what I'm planning can be picked up in the next chapter. -


	3. Intrepidness

—Remembering something someone did or "said."— _Thinking_  
------------

Link had changed to his usual sleeveless canvas jacket and dark brown trousers. There were no visible signs of his battle the day earlier. He felt like one walking bruise. The agonizing muscles of his back protested with each rippling shift as he walked. His hair had lightened to a non-descript brown, bangs still hanging in his eyes.

He'd been mildly surprised that his Gramps wasn't in the flat, but he knew where to find the wily old man. Life had moved on in the Lower Levels in the few days he'd been away. The city was still working in the middle of a dull roar; evidently the mayor was sore over being robbed in spite of the few days.

Which meant that known dens were raided and the Thief Lord was rode harder by the Provost. Increased patrols by the guards in the Lower Levels and everyone laid low in general. The emerald and ruby couldn't be sold in the black market because of the general doggish nature of the guards.

Not in Kakariko, in any case.

In Trohsten or Dolstrol on the other hand…they were still fair game. That is, if Link wanted to travel all over the continent to find the best price for hot jewels.

Link yawned, jaw cracking as his hands turned to fists in his pockets from the flare of pain in his back. His boots clunked against the grating, joining the chorus already in progress. The walk was packed with customers for the Day Market. Steam wafted and swirled around their forms, masking them in an ever-present mist.

He reached Nimya's Fountain (no one knew who Nimya had been or how she warranted a whole fountain…) situated in the middle of Day Market, a poorer version of Mido Market, the fountain was pieced together by multiple bowls that spilled from one to another. The water was as clean as one could hope for the ones of the lowest standings in the city. The four segregated pools had a designated usage by unspoken agreement.

His Gramps was settled on the laundering one, hands clasped over his crooked cane as he perched on the bowl's lip. Mistress Cooper was laughing heartily at whatever his Gramps had just said, her shimmering white hair pinned primly on top of her head. Her skirt was a dark brown, pale blue blouse tucked into the waist. Long sleeves were rolled up to show off muscular biceps, her face holding a sweet kind of attraction that seemed to grow with age.

She caught sight of the approaching teen and gave a small smile, dark eyes glittering in amusement.

"Oi-ya. Looky who's back! Is it time fer ya feeden' Link?" Mistress Cooper teased, her hands never ceasing their scrubbing of the graying cloth. "Who's the gilly yer sweet on?"

Link grinned and felt a flush climb his cheeks. "I dun lay and gab, Mistress."

That earned a cackle from both of the elders and the blue-eyed teen settled beside his Gramps on the lip.

"I wuz wonderen' where this old rascal had gotten to, really." The old man leered and waggled his bushy brows suggestively. "Followin' his old man's footsteps."

The teen ignored the urge to groan and roll his eyes; instead he gave Mistress Cooper a look of long suffering. She chuckled in understanding, though her gray eyes held the cold glitter of knowledge of what was left unsaid.

She was from the Lower Levels, the Mistress.

"Master Jin thinks he can woe a lonely widow, he does." Mistress Cooper informed Link, wringing out the garment before snapping it straight. It wasn't the first or last time, the thief was sure. His Gramps had a reputation to uphold, or so he said.

"How's the old man doin' so far, Mistress?" The thief didn't fight off the smirk, overlooking the grandfather who growled warningly.

"He's persistent, that one. I don' know if I'm sweet on him, as of yet." She sounded regretful, a wry twist of her lips reveling wrinkles that seemed to accent instead draw away from her pleasant features.

"This one's a tough one Gramps…looks like yer gonna need some help melten' her resolve." He stage whispered to the scowling old man. Gramps always dished it better than receiving. He tilted his torso around the hunched, glowering form and gave the older woman a grin that could charm rust off iron. "Have pity on the lonely bindle, Mistress."

"What a thoughtful lovey ya are!" The old woman grinned and mocked a bashful flutter with her hand. "Aye! Ye be Master Jin's through and through!"

"Nah. This is purely selfish, Mistress. Mayhap it'll improve his character to 'ave tha company of a lady such as yerself." The thief admitted and beamed wildly at the woman's cackle of amusement.

"I do admit tha' he does have a certain charm when he pouts." She teased as she carefully packed the freshly wringed linens and clothes. He was about to offer to help with the laundry when Gramps slipped off the fountain lip.

"Let's go, Hero. I need ta explain tha' of all tha things I need help wit, dancein' wit a woman isn' one of um." The old man groused, cane clanging against the metal plating. He would carry the cane behind his back once he reached the grating to avoid it getting caught in unexpected holes.

The blue-eyed teen gave a mock salute to the hysterical Mistress Cooper before catching up with the sulking man. He easily kept pace, calling out greetings to the inhabitants and mudlarks that ran the pipe paths of Rauru Ward.

The thundering footsteps and bursts of curses caught the tired teen's attention. He judged the disturbance to be headed directly for him. The thief tried to make way, twisting off to the side. Sadly, there was no dodging the sudden body slam. Link grunted and crashed into a thick drainpipe, his body throwing a fit in protest.

"HELL!" Link snapped, preparing to knock the snot out of the clumsily fool. He looked down and wasn't mollified to see a familiar head of crimson, wild spikes. "Cripes, Reno! Stop doing that already! I'm not yer damn toy!"

"He-hee!" A gape toothed grin set in the unturned, cherub face. The eyes were a dazzling violet, speckled with copper and silver set under winged brows. The ears had a hint of a point, his nose a button above the thin lips. The nine year old was a bundle of energy and deceptive with his innocence. The redhead conned as easily as he breathed and had the makings of a Master Pickpocket, if he could stay out of the cages and Shieka. "Link! It wuz so boren'! Don' leave again!"

The teen sighed and prayed for patience, keeping careful watch on the twitching hands that would lift him just for game. "Reno. Let go and pray you better have none of my things in your mitts."

"I'd never filch anything from you, Link. Where were ya?" The boy fibbed, a cheeky smile twisting the lips.

"I wuz courten' a gilly, rascal." Link informed him, careful untangling the young limbs from his body. "Now, scat. I'm hungry."

"You're lyen'!" Reno stated bluntly, eyes hard. A dark brown arched in question and the blonde boy huffed and explained, "No jock is willen' ta dance wi' a gilly!"

Widower Marks, who inhabited the flat below Link's, paused and guffawed. "Well said, shorty! Gillies only serve ta breed trouble!"

The feisty curly topped brunette he was courting stepped to his back. She scowled and tugged at his ear. She was a well-proportioned wench and took crap from no one, let alone a smart mouthed widower.

"What about gillies, Marks?" Trisana purred, brown eyes glittering in contained amusement.

"I was talken' on how I love a sassy gilly!" He replied easily, twisting to scoop the woman in his arms. "Mistress Tris, are you that gilly?"

"Jock's cracked." Reno grumbled as his eyes narrowed at the nuzzling couple as they slipped back into their flat. He gave Link a look from the corner of his eyes. "Don' ya go an' say that I'll understand one day."

"I wouldn' be lyin' if I did." The blue-eyed teen smirked, ruffling the scarlet locks playfully and earning a disgusted growl. "I gotta go in."

"Don' leave me behind next time! I'll stay outta yer way while ya dance wi' yer gilly!" Reno demanded, tugging at the full sleeves of the undershirt insistently.

The thief scratched the back of his head lightly in frustration. Reno knew what he did, understood the undertones and read between the lines. There were no true secrets in the Lower Levels. There was unspoken speculation and turning the other cheek, but no secret. Reno had a nasty case of hero worship. Link may have been stealing for near nine years, but he'd never been caught and thrown in the cages. What the redhead didn't understand that it was a good amount of luck that gave aid to Link's skill. One can't teach good fortune.

He also felt guilty about crushing the younger boy. "Look," he tempered. "I'll bring you along before too long, promise. Just not with the gilly I'm dancin' with right now."

The con artist nodded, appeased. He gave a quick wave and integrated back into the crowd heading towards Day Market.

_If I ever do another job again after this one…poor lad. He's gonna be disappointed._Link thought miserably, thundering up the steps to the flat.

Gramps had already settled onto the rug with his cup of tea, the pot letting a thin line of steam from the spout, kept warm on top of the space heater.

Link carefully folded his legs into the tailor seat and didn't bother to conceal the flinches.

"Rough trip?" Gramps asked softly, eyes worried. The long-eared teen sighed and dragged his hand through his oily hair. He started from the beginning, careful not to leave a detail undisclosed of the heist. He didn't speak of the self-proclaimed Professor Houlihan and the tedious recon bit, seeing them unnecessary. The old man closed his eyes and said nothing, though the lines of age deepened as his worry obviously grew. The silence stretched as Link finished and awaited the final judgment. "Ya think he wuz tipped off, ya say?"

"Why else would he move it and hire guards?"

"Ya also said that you left proof tha' you'd been in the first office. Who's to say that you weren' tha tip-off?"

Link's mouth dropped open and then snapped shut. The thin face flushed deeply as he realized how right his Gramps probably was.

_Hell and Damnation. That can't be all, though! _Link fisted his dark hair and yanked it roughly, refusing to believe.

"Why would he think that I was after his ruby, though? That's a bit far-fetched, Gramps. I took every rupee in the building, not just his office." He pointed out reasonably, resting his hands on his knees with a set expression. "Besides, where was it the first night?"

"How the hell should I know? Damnation, Hero! Maybe he wanted ta polish his pole while he stared at it! I don' read minds!" Gramps told him incredulous voice. "Well, if ya really think someone's tipped him off…then ya should leave tonight to fetch the sapphire. Ya don' need a map for Stalfos Treasury and Trust. It's the biggest building in Narein, halfway up Darunia Mountain. The jewel is on the fountain in the lobby."

_Better to go now. If I'm right…how many more of those nasty suits of armor will they fill that place up with? It'll be a nightmare. _The teen thought in dawning horror. _I never wanna fight another thing like that again. _

"I'll go look for a ride." Link finally said, standing up slowly.

-------

Link had hitched a ride from one of the rigs that would haul timber, furniture or explosives down. The fastest way up the mountain was through Kakariko, so it was only a matter of prying for the long-eared boy to find an easy ride. Not that the driver knew he had a passenger.

The blue-eyed teen wore a long sleeved canvas green jacket and grey canvas breeches tucked into buff-colored boots. With his hair free from its tail to settle about his shoulders like a wild black mane, he didn't look any different from a runaway looking for a job.

The thief stared at the open gates to Narein. There was an armed soldier, probably part of their private militia, standing off to the side. The town was carved into the mountain, surrounded by miles of thick forest.

Sadly, the first few acres around the town were cleared down to stumps. Narein was known for the unique wood working and large store of bomb powder that it exported for its income.

"New here?" The soldier asked in a cheerful tone. The younger man turned his gaze to the armored man.

_Am I new here? What the hell kinda question is that? I'm at the front gate and he's probably never seen me before! _"Yeah." Link answered instead, smiling as he tucked his scarred hands in his pockets. "Looken' for work, actually. You know a good place to start?"

The guard hmph'ed, eyes sliding back into town as if the wooden houses and quiet streets would give him inspiration. The dark eyes lit up and he smiled back at the teen. "How good are ya with yer hands, lad?"

"Decent. I can learn whatever I don' know." Link admitted, taking a few steps closer. An eager man looking for work isn't as easily remembered as a rude teen scowling and cursing a storm. "The carpenters need help?"

"Mutoh isna hirin' as of yet. Ya'd have to have some background afore he'd consider ya." The guard looked at him askance and the thief winced inwardly.

"That bites. Everyone knows that the best carpentry comes out of Narien." The teen groused, doing his best to look a disappointed. He held out a hand thoughtlessly. "Mikau."

The gauntleted palm passed briefly over the teen's in greeting. "Viscen. How do ya like this mountain air?"

The man was obviously teasing. He could see the light flush on Link's face and the obvious work he was putting forth to keep his breathing even. Narein was over a mile above sea level, making life difficult for those unused to the thin air.

"Cleaner then the Yards and Kakariko. Never seen anywhere else quite like it." The teen admitted. There weren't any factories dominating the town. They were tucked in the mines and forests doing their jobs. The little town was downright rustic compared to the smut-covered city. There were scorch marks on the sides of some stonewalls where torches were normally placed. Electricity was something distant and more like a tale.

Everything was cleaner. The sky was actually a cornflower blue with white fluffy clouds scuttling lazily across it. Disturbingly perfect in silence with only birdcalls and chicken clucks mingling in the air. A windmill turned slowly overhead, pumping water from the ground and into the well.

It was tranquility.

It put the thief on edge.

While Viscen preened under the compliment of his city, Link tried not to shudder. _Doesn't all this quiet make them a little mad? It has to be the thin air. Not enough oxygen to the brain._

"I'm off duty in a half hour. I ya want, I kin take ya ta Gus Lumber an' see if they 'ave any need fer hands." The soldier offered with a friendly smile that sent warning bells off in Link's head.

He could not get stuck here. That and he thought that the watchman was hitting on him.

_Hell. My voice has barely changed and I already have men trying to bed me. What kinda sick prick…no, I've got to be imagining things._ Link scrambled for a way to decline gracefully. The longer Viscen hung around, the easier the guard would remember him. He might even put two and two together. Sadly, his usually resourceful mind failed him. It would be too conspicuous if he turned down a chance to find a job when he claimed that for the reason to even come to Narein. "If it wouldn' be too much trouble."

"Nah. Go to tha Main Guardhouse when the clock strikes the hour."

"'Kay. Where's tha Main Guardhouse?" Link grinned at the embarrassed noise the older man made.

"Right under the Windmill. It's the center of town, on the north end of Market."

"Got it. I'll play tourist till then." _Hell and Damnation! I have the worst luck! I'll have to do a quick search of the town before this idiot gets off…need to hide my weapon, too. The baton is from the Provost's Guard and he'll notice my bracers are tucked full of tools._ They passed palms once more and Link set off at an ambling pace, hoping he imagined the watchman's hand lingering over his. _If he makes a pass at me, I'll brain him._

-------

Link squatted beside the Guardhouse a little before the clock cried the hour. His dark head was leaned back, pressed against the warm wood of the building, arms resting on top of his knees and hands hanging limply from their wrists. He'd wandered around the town and mapped it mentally, having just enough time afterward to go and visit Stalfos.

The bank was a grand two story building. It seemed to sprout from the mountain with impressive pillars, heavy arching wooden doors banded in iron, vaulting ceilings, and sculpted walls. The outside was the same firebrick red as the mountain, the inside ranging from black marble veined with pink, white and jade for the floor to white marble hinting with black, silver, and gold used for the teller's counter.

Thick carpets with subtle designs, obviously Dolstrol made, were strategically placed beneath small clustering bits that served for waiting areas. Overstuffed reddish brown leather couches surrounded low tables of highly polished dark wood. Heavy scarlet drapes embroidered with gold thread weighting it along the edges framed the twelve pane windows.

Gold plated chandeliers hung from the thick rafter beams, dripping with crystals that turned the flickering candlelight into rainbow hues and clear light to those below. Screens of laced metal depicting mountain views, birds in flight, and great hunts separating desks. Everything in the lobby was meticulously detailed to the point where even the perceptive thief felt overwhelmed to try to remember it all.

Where he normally would have frowned at such lavishness, he was in awe. Having been built to last, the structure had the taint of age, and like Mistress Cooper, it gave it more charm instead of distracting from it.

_Cripes. I'm glad I'm not trying to rob the actual vault. Those doors looked impossible to crack! At least the sapphire is easy to get to._

The jewel was in the shape six inch teardrop. Three topless females in the worst likeness of mermaids that he'd ever seen were rising from a wave's crescendo, fingertips barely brushing it. Water spilled from beneath the sapphire, rushing down the three females' figure to fall from the wave supporting them. The cascade of water made a perfect sheet to gurgle and splash into the pool under it. The wet noise filled the building just enough to cover the buzz of conversation.

_They probably use that noise to drown out all the conversations about transactions. It's a wonder they don't go nuts. This entire place is…off kilter somehow. _The thief thought, a frown creasing his brow. _Why is such an old and extravagant bank in such a rinky-dink town?_

"Oi, Mikau." The deep voiced broke through the heavy thoughts and the thief lifted his head. Viscen stood over him in a simple grey cotton shirt and brown breeches. Hair cut in layers so it lay flat along his neck was the color of polished mahogany, red highlights obvious in the sun. Sharply pointed ears stuck from under the strands, a diamond twinkling in the right lobe. The friendly eyes were still black and fathomless outside the shade of the helm.

"Oi." The thief replied, shoving off the wall and grunting as he used the momentum to stand.

"You stay entertained?" The guard asked as he nodded towards the street he wanted to take.

"I managed."

"Did you see Stalfos T and T?"

"Are ya kidden? First place I found." Link grinned, not seeing a point in denying it. Stalfos was renowned. It was the oldest bank in the country and had more rumors, ghost stories, and urban legends then most cities. "Too bad I don't own a shutter box."

Viscen laughed and pounded the poor thief's back. "Poor boy! Aw, well. If you open an account there, at lease you'll have written proof you visited."

The sore teen yelped out the breath in his lungs as the man pounded away at his bruise. _I just want this day to be over! I'll catch the first ride outta this town and go somewhere civilized!_

----------

Viscen and Link walked away from the last lumber company barely an hour latter. Nether spoke and Link had to work hard to not appear relieved that he'd been turned down at all five companies for one reason or another.

"Sorry, jock." The older man sighed, hands deep in his breeches pocket.

"Don't worry about it. It was a long shot. I'll just…head back down to the city or something. I just came at the wrong season." Link replied, eyes on the packed ground as they shuffled back towards Viscen's lodgings. He'd say his farewells to the taller man then and head out of town until nightfall.

"Ya could join the guard." The watchman joked.

"How would I stand all the excitement? No thanks. I'll take my chances at the coal mines in the Yards or on a farm in Nocturne Plains." The blue-eyed teen replied airily before giving the man a shrug to show he was kidding. "I'm gonna go ahead an' start heading down."

The watchman frowned, eyeing the shorter teen. "You walked up the mountain?"

"Oh, hell no. I hitched a ride. I don't think I'll chance it goin' down, though." The thief admitted. He gave a slight wave. "I'll see you next season, Viscen."

"Be careful then, Mikau." Viscen returned the short goodbye, both going their separate ways.

---------

The thief perched in a patch of boulders just above the bank. He watched the sun set over the horizon, giving the sky a fiery brilliance that could only be achieved a few thousand feet in the air. The orb burned itself out over the edge of the world, the silvery moon chasing it gaily across the navy sky with its entourage of stars studding the pitch.

Fires burst into existence along the front gate, torchlight throwing shadows along the main streets. No laughter or voices drifted up from the town, but he could pick out too dark shapes moving towards their homes or bars.

Life here was intoxicating in its simplicity, but it held no long-term appeal to the long-eared teen. He felt out of his element in the calm. Would he really be able to quit thieving when he finished with these jobs? What would he do after this?

What did he want?

He'd always thought of his Gramps first, but he was chaffing under the restrictions. Not enough to rebel, but enough to wonder what the hell he was doing. Fourteen going on forty, he'd yet to do something truly selfish.

_If I don't quit…my luck will run out one day and I'll find myself in Shieka Penitentiary with one hand. Why does it feel like my life is pretty much over if I'm not stealing?_

A resounding thud and clinking of iron keys brought him to the present. The guards were locking up and heading home. The teen shook his head to clear his mind of unnecessary thoughts and watched the bank.

Three hours later, the thief confirmed the patrol times for the guards. They circulated the area around the bank once an hour and checked inside the windows only briefly. The guards had just changed and the new one was just as lazy.

Obviously no one was expecting a break in. Normal routine soothed the teen's frazzled nerves. He watched the last guard tromp back down the slope into town, jumping from his hiding place after ensuring the baton was firmly in his belt and tying back his hair.

He tread lightly over the hard packed earth, eyes set on the heavy doors and wondering if he should try to remove a pane of glass instead. He stepped lightly onto the granite steps and paused, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in warning. He dropped and rolled to the side, hearing a profound thud sound in his wake.

He stopped in a crouch, yanking his baton free. A shadowy beast was rising to all fours, a deep growl making the air tremble around its massive form. It appeared to be a wolf, but he'd never seen a wolf the size of a small horse. Its legs were thick with corded muscle beneath silver threaded black fur, eyes a glittering green coated orange, large teeth glowing from the film of saliva coating them.

_Too big! That wolf is way too damn big! What happened to acceptably sized animals!_ Link wondered before beginning to panic. _What if it howls? Cripes! I'll have to live in these damn mountains till I can try again! Oh, fuck! What if it hunts me down? I don't know if this is any better then the armor!_

The wolf seemed to tire of the teen's frozen silence, thundering forward on paws with wicked claws digging deep into the rock solid earth. The thief backpedaled before throwing his body out of the way. The wolf drifted into a turn, muscles bunching as it lunged onto the new course.

Teeth and hot breath kissed the thief's face as he jerked from the gnashing jaws, whacking the lead core baton on the long snout out of reflex.

The canine's head snapped to the side and he skidded to a halt, preparing to attack. Link jumped towards it while the beast lagged, bashing the maxilla harder and drawing a muffled yelp and a burst of thunderous sneezes. He angled his shoulders forward, pulling his stomach and hips away from the slashing claws and then ducking another snap of teeth. He drove the blunt baton up into the soft gap between the jawbone, hearing the click of teeth cracking together.

The wolf and teen danced around the other warily, taking cheap shots. The canine could smell the heavy musk of fear but knew it didn't signal weakness. The human before it could think through the trepidation and making the thief a worthy opponent. It had learned from underestimating the teen. The canine lost two teeth from the baton making itself known and kept its broken front left leg tucked against its chest.

Link had a nasty gash on his shoulder and a light nip on his thigh, but not enough to break flesh. The wolf was far more frightening than the armor. The beast was just as unnatural in the thief's eyes, but even realer then animated bits of armor. It was faster, more cunning, and vicious.

The lanky teen blinked sweat from his eyes, breathing heavily, unaccustomed to the thin air with such rigorous exercise. He wanted to throw up, his throat burned for water, nose running and bleeding from cracking in the dryness. His head felt light and he didn't like it, but he couldn't exactly recall why. His world had narrowed to the limping, stalking wolf as they circled to find an opening.

In it dashed and Link waited, body tense as he prayed he didn't overestimate his reach. He stabbed the baton forward, rewarded with a startled yelp as the blunt end ripped through the socket to pulverize the delicate orb. It jerked way, teeth snapping as the thief slammed the end still in the socket roughly against the encasing bone. A satisfying crunch announced the skull fracturing under the strain, the baton breaking free.

The canine went mad and began to lunge and slash wildly. It was greatly hindered on its left side, unable to see or use the leg effectively. Link used it to his advantage, taunting and jabbing the great beast at every opening.

A lucky blow from the great, shaking head caught the teen in the stomach. He flew back and landed hard, breath leaving his lungs. In the wolf limped, finally having its prey right where it wanted him. Link lifted his head, seeing three wolves finally settling into one. It was too close, blood still gushing from the mashed eye and mixing with foamy spittle from the gaping jowls.

The teeth filled chops descended towards the throat, ready to worry it in half. Link shoved his fist straight into the eager mouth, gagging the beast and making it impossible for it to bite down. It coughed hot saliva onto his face, but he plucked the remaining eye free before it could yank back.

It tried to break free, but Link had dug his fingers into the soft meat of the throat. The thief growled, face unrecognizable as it warped with his own rage-tinted desperation. He jammed his arm further down, feeling the mandible tensing, striving to close, the tongue trying to urge the too large appendage from the mouth. The teeth pressed into the firm muscle of the teen's biceps, but didn't break skin. The panicking thief began to bash the beast's head roughly, the sounds of frenzied pain blocked by his arm.

Warm liquid splashed on his face, copper filled his mouth and coated his tongue as he gasped. The berserk teen didn't even notice the wolf collapsing to its side, feet pawing the air, claws catching and tearing into his right shoulder. He pounded the skull even after it collapsed with an audible crunch. Even after the throat stopped convulsing around his arm and bits of unknown meat smacked his cheeks.

His arm burned, shoulder ached, thigh throbbed, throat raw from his gasps as he finally was forced the halt his assault. He pulled his arm from the unmoving throat, wincing as the still sharp teeth grazed his arm. The slightly shredded canvas was soaked with body fluids best left unknown. He stared down at the body, picking out the details in the dim light. The top part of the skull was crushed into the ground, the long tongue lank on the ground and coated in dust. The body was twisted and unnatural, deep ruts gouged in the earth where it had struggled to right its body.

The temptation to continue pummeling the body sang through the teen's body, unresolved anger at the world in general making his blood race and mind wild. His senses registered someone walking towards the slope and brought the thief's sanity back. He grabbed the beast by the hind legs and tugged it to a patch of scraggly bushes. Under close scrutiny, it would be a worthless hiding place. But in the cover of darkness with an inattentive sentry, it would do.

He waited for the man to leave, the cloying scent of death and blood making him gag. He breathed shallowly through his mouth, using the collar of his jacket to further filter the stench. The shock and adrenaline mixing just right to allow the teen to ignore the pain radiating from the lacerations. The sentry yawned and stomped back down the path.

Link emerged from the bushes, barely waiting for the watchman to be gone. He quietly trotted up the stairs and chose the fifth window on the far left of the doors, since no one bothered to walk down that far. He pulled two suctions cups, licked them and stuck them on the glass before tugging a glasscutter from his bracer, making quick lines along the pane. Tucking it back, he grabbed the two suction cups and pulled the glass out with a quick jerk.

Setting the piece gently off to the side, he clamored in through he window. A quick glance and a few heartbeats of holding his breath ensured the vacancy of the room. There were no shifting figures, no sense of life. The only movement was the curtain of water spilling from the fountain, giving disturbingly cheerful gurgles in the gloom.

Link knew he was being hasty, but he didn't want to wait for any more surprises. _If a damn suit of armor shows up, I'll fucken' lose my mind! _

He walked to the fountain, footsteps barely audible over the water. He vaulted over the fountain lip, splashing into the deep water. He stared down at his vague reflection broken by ripples and waves. He felt just as tenuous in existence, his mind still numb from the battle. It had almost been like fighting a human. There had been real intelligence behind those cold, hard eyes. Ruthless and calculating, but how different from the way he had been?

_No, don't think about it. Too much's going on and you can't think straight. It was a thing, not a person. Dead now in any case._ He ducked his head under the sheet of water, cleaning off the worst of the flecks of flesh and great splashes of blood. He pulled back, gasping and shaking his head to shed most of the water. His eyes traveled up; seeing the prize that should have been somehow dimmer after all the drama he just waded through.

Knee-deep in water that slapped against his thighs as he stepped forward, ambient light catching in the blue stone. Mist billowed before his vision like a breath exhaled in the dead of winter.

Ice shivering with blue that rivaled the color of his eyes glazed dark rock walls, bits of snow drifting down.

An empty lakebed like a gaping wound in the earth, rain slicing through his vision and gathering into a pathetic puddle at the base.

Standing unsteadily on all fours on ice that chilled him through, staring up at a daunting waterfall frozen solid.

His vision strangely grainy, colors slightly inverted as he looked into the iced up depths to see countless ghostly figures of the badly depicted mermaids frozen in graceful positions of swimming.

An empty throne cloaked with heady emotions of rage and regret, the steady echo of rushing water, gentle splashing and the heady scent of fish.

Diving towards a deep pool, the sound of the waterfall filling his senses, the roiling surface rushing to meet him.

Standing in the middle of an island at sunrise, the reddish-orange glow catching on the deep waters spread out before him, peace that something was restored flowing through his veins and the sense of an ally at his back.

A mere-boy on his knees, head bowed before a grave in a shaft of glittering sunlight, grief written on every line of his strange body.

The giggling of a mere-girl in his ears and shocked by the worshipful nature that she gazed at him.

—"Don't tell my father…"—

The images trickled from his mind and the thief didn't bother trying to catch them. He merely climbed until his fingertips joined the stone ones along the jewel. Sapphire light flared against the closed lids, but other surprises announced themselves as he pried the precious gem loose and shoved it into the inner pocket of his jacket. Scaling back down and sloshing out of the fountain easily and leaving a long trailing puddle to the window didn't even bother his conscience.

Link was strangely clear headed, making sure the coast was clear before slipping out and replacing the pane. It would fall out easily if touched, but it would do until he got out of the city.

_You're not outta hot water yet. _The thief tried to tell himself firmly as he dashed across the clear yard and through the bushes. He jumped, landing lightly on the roof of an inn a story below the cliff.

------------

Link collapsed a few hundred yards from the town, feeling too weak to move. He'd bandaged the wounds over brief pauses as he'd made his path over the roofs. The adrenaline was dwindling; blood loss taking its toll and eating away at what was left of his strength and wits, leaving him close to defenseless.

_It took three hours to make it up by rig…how long by foot? _The thief wondered, the gem heavy against his heart, almost mocking him.

He forced his body to stand, waiting for the world to settle back as one before moving on. He stumbled and bumbled his way tree-by-tree, grabbing with his left hand to make sure he stayed upright.

The world dimmed to darkness a few times over the next hour. He did a face plant into a river, taking gasping gulps to relieve his thirst. He rolled into the river to allow it to clean his body. He crawled down stream, formless canines chasing him in the crazed thief's mind.

Half a mile downstream, the fading teen dragged his near useless body from the water and clambered up into a mighty oak's crown. Cradled in the protective branches, the thief finally drifted into oblivion.

------------

In Narein, the inhabitants of the town wouldn't discover the theft until dawn. Horror and panic would ensue upon the discovery of the massive wolf's body. Due to the scent that still clung to Link upon his departure, the hounds would refuse to follow.

The canines wouldn't see a human in the smell, but a dominant creature that would bash them bloody if they threatened him. The hounds had more sense then humans.

So, human trackers would set out to find the thief, picking up his trail outside the walls just before noon. They would follow it to the river, but wouldn't be able to pick up the trail after. The thief had exited on a shale bank that would leave no proof of his existence after the sun rose. They would scour the area, but never look up and miss the passed out teen curled like a child in his mother's arms amongst the oak branches.

--------------

Zelda Omake!!!

The images trickled from his mind and the thief didn't bother trying to catch them. He merely climbed until his fingertips joined the stone ones along the jewel. Sapphire light flared against the closed lids, the sudden metallic roar catching the thief's attention.

Fear made his blood freeze for the second time that night. Clinging one handed to the statue's arms like a sailor on a mast, the teen turned, eyes locking on the suit of armor falling from the rafters. Starlight gleamed against the polished metal, giving it the appearance of been glazed with ice. An axe in each fist and a tail flaring in its wake, it would be a nightmare to defeat when it landed.

The unfairness of the situation wasn't lost to Link.

T_wo monsters to guard the last stone! Why the hell not? You know what? FUCK THEM! Fuck this level! I'm just gonna chuck it and run! If Gramps wants this thing so god-damn bad, he can come and face Mr. Magic Armor on his own damn time! I quit! GAME THE FUCK OVER!_ The teen's face twisted in wrath, watching the armor glide through the air.

It landed nimbly on its feet, axes raised and ready for action...and then crumpled in a pile of random bits of armor. Pieces skittered across the marble, the noisy crash echoing over the fountain. The helm banged against the fountain's base, spinning wildly in a circle before coming to a halt.

Link stared, unsure what he'd just witnessed. The armor didn't reassemble itself and he cleared his throat, vaguely embarrassed.

"Well, then. Take that."  
--------------

A/N: I had fun weaving in a lot of character interaction. It sucks that it took so long to get to the actual heist though. I loved this battle. I can't wait till I actually have him fighting people. I know, I'm weird! I just love the idea of the thoughts that would or wouldn't be going through someone's mind. How the body reacts during and afterwards…How the mind handles the stress. Anyway, I can't wait for the next chapter. Sorry this one took so long to post. Sadly, next weeks will be a little late in coming. My mom is visiting and I have a roommate moving in, add in some mad Thanksgiving Mayhem and you have a distracted Sealink...

For those of you who don't know...Omake is just a "What if?" kinda deal. That really didn't happen, so please, don't get confused. Me and Bob were talking about it after I posted and thought it would have been hilarious if it'd really happened. I didn't want to change the story, so I just decided to share it as an Omake. - He didn't get it when he read it..."Sealink, it's in the wrong spot." "Bob, it didn't happen...damnit. Now you've ruined it."


	4. Extrication

—Remembering something someone did or "said."— _Thinking #($(#$ (Ancient Hyrulian)  
_

_-----------_

Reno ambled along the catwalk towards the North Gate, eyeing the mass of humanity walking below him. The conversation that filtered up was just the general buzz, nothing new or interesting. There were only pairs gathering, eyeing the Provost Guards that kept close watch.

The young boy, along with the rest of the Kakariko, suspected that Link was the culprit. Not that he would ever speak of his wondering aloud. The blue-eyed thief was the darling of the Lower Levels. If there was a job that needed to be done, one went to Link. The Provost was getting tricky, using spies in the Lower Level that were harder to detect to try to learn of the thief's identity and if there were any jobs in progress. Of course, if the Provost were smarted, he'd try to learn more of the thieves that weren't associated with the Thief Lord.

Evidently, Narein was coming down hard on the Mayor, accusing of him organizing the hit in Stalfos Treasury and Trust. There were rumors that someone hit Malo Enterprises, as well. The boy had a bet going that the mayor would declare Martial Law within a week until the jewels was found.

_Link needs to hurry the hell back._ Reno groused, dragging his grease tinged fingers through his wild spikes. _I know he's doin' a big job, but if he keeps sneaking out of the city, they'll piece it. He's been gone for three nights. Cripes. I can't believe that he's going after such renowned gems. Where the hell is he gonna sell 'em?_

The redhead usually followed the teen around faithfully, though Link never allowed him to participate in any hits. The long-eared teen was mostly a sneak thief, although he was a decent filch and con-man. Link didn't even have to try to earn trust. It swam his way and the thief, much like Reno, had no qualms about using it to his own ends.

The boy yawned and continued to stroll above the throng, trying to think up some entertainment until the teen returned. A new pile of rags Just in his path along the shadows caught the budding thief's attention. Reno blinked before crouching in front of the stumblebum.

"How tha hell didja get up here, ya bindle? Not everyone knows of my trails." The redhead murmured, keeping out of striking distance. All he could see was a dirty mop, though the smell was near overwhelming. Dirt, sweat, blood, urine and deep musk cloyed in the delicate nose; the boy holding up a sleeve to guard his senses. "Mahn-ya! Yer foul! Stay on tha streets where ya kin beg!"

The rags shifted, oily head lifted to show glazed blue eyes from the gloom. Reno stared as a chill ran up his spine.

"Link?" the redhead reached out and stroked the bangs from the forehead, shocked at the cool touch and pallor of his skin beneath the grit. "Cripes! What happened ta ya?"

"Wolf." The teen grunted roughly. The shorter boy cocked a brow skeptically; sure he misunderstood the thief's word. Link blink lazily, head beginning to droop. His breathe scraping against his dry throat. "Forget it…listen…Reno…ya gotta do sum'in' fer me."

"Sure, Link! Whatcha need?"

The blurry-eyed thief pressed the sapphire against the younger boy's chest. The redhead blinked and began to flush with excitement and worry. "No wonder ya dance wi' dis gilly…cain't wait ta meet tha others."

"Reno…take it ta Gramps." The dirty hand grasped the boy's chin and forced the violet orbs to meet his. "That thing'z hot as hell. Git it ta Gramps."

The boy frowned and nodded. Of course it was hot! How could he act as if Reno didn't know? Maybe he wasn't aware of all the upheaval he'd created already. He tucked the sapphire into his shirt, glancing back at the blue-eyed thief. Link had slouched back into a lump of rags.

"Don' die Link." Reno begged softly, voice breaking as worry crossed his young brow.

Link opened his eye to a slit; bother passing over his dirty face as he took in the budding thief. "Reno, don' snivel like a babe an' do tha job. I'm not dien', I'm jus' worn out."

The redhead flushed as dark as his hair, nodding once before scampering back down the walk. It was good to have the long-eared teen back. Excitement always seemed to follow.

---------

The injured thief watched Reno dash off with annoyance barely veiling pain. He should have asked the boy to return with water and food. His stomach was gnawing on itself and he had a headache that pounded in time with every noise. His body was too cold and he shivered in his collection of rags. His vision was degraded, but not nearly so bad as on top of the mountain. The wounds were infected and there was nothing he could do with his limited supplies.

_Worst return ever._ Link groused silently. _Couldn't make it to Gramps and had to wait for Reno and drag him into this mess. Hell and Damnation. I've never had such a rough time with a job._

The thief faded off, his thoughts becoming disjointed. He was jostled about, but unable to rise from the stupor to discover why. Voices he recognized, Marks and Renny, barely broke through the fog that enveloped the dazed mind.

Warm water, blazing pain, freezing air, and hushed sounds of comfort invaded the sleep. He was floating in darkness woven with images that were out of focus and impossible to decipher.

When his eyes finally opened, all he saw was a bright orange blur dancing above his head. He watched it dully, his body throbbing from unfinished healing. He watched the blur slowly come into focus and become a candle flame flickering on a rickety aluminum table. The thief sensed only one other person in the room and it took only a heartbeat to identify it as his Grandfather.

"You've made a fine mess this time, Hero." The old man started, slowly settling next to the teen's pallet, joints cracking. "What do ya 'ave to say fer yerself?"

"There wuzza wolf." The thief muttered thickly, rubbing the sand from his eyes. He really didn't feel like defending his actions. He knew he botched the job and he didn't need his Gramps pointing it out. He made it and had the stone to boot, who cares how he managed to get away?

"Nareinian Militia is in Kakariko. You didn't shake them well enough that they didn't follow you." Gramps pointed out dryly, watching his grandson scowl. He'd been worried about the troublesome boy, especially when the redheaded terror broke into their flat when the old man couldn't answer to his clap fast enough.

—"Link said ta give this to ya." He murmured against the withered ear, pressing the sapphire against the old man's chest. The purple eyes were restless, flickering about the flat as if he suspected to be jumped at any moment.

Fear thudded through Jin's veins, imagining the condition the boy had to be in for him to trust the gem with the scamp. Everything he'd been working towards would be ruined if something happened to Link. "Get Widower Marks and Renny Lambert. Tell them I'll pay them pretty if they fetch my grandson." —

The actual wounds could have been much worse. If the punctures on his left shoulder had gone deeper, he'd have needed medical attention they couldn't afford. The same with the multiple lacerations on his right shoulder and the surprising size and amount of bruises on his legs were impressive.

—"He's lost a lot of blood, Master Jin." Tris told him quietly, eyes tracing the still, molted form. "He needs care better than mine. Take him to the hospice. It's a miracle he survived this long. If he sleeps for a few days, he might just make it, but the hospice will ensure it. His body is handling it better than his mind is."

She paused and looked troubled. "He'll appear normal when he wakes, but he won' be. It'll take months for his body to replenish his blood supply to normal levels. His vision will still be bad, he'll miss things…make mistakes."

Tris paused and gave the quiet old man a stern look. "I kin guess what he's been up to, Master Jin." She warned. "Don't send him on some fool errand. He won' make it back if you do."

Jin didn't say anything, merely staring at the curly haired woman blandly. She sighed, seeing the futility in such a warning. She pulled out a glass flask from her shirt. It was half filled with a clear, thick liquid. Unscrewing the cap, Tris pulled a small leather pouch from her chest. She tipped the powder into the flask, capping and shaking it quickly.

"Angel Dust and Fire Water. Packs a punch, but he'll be running on empty when the effects wear off. A gulp or two will make 'im feel like a god." She swirled the now crimson liquid before handing it to the old man. "Be grateful. If Link hadn' helped me all those times, I wouldn' waste such an expensive mix on him." —

He listened to the thief relate the job from the beginning, carefully helping him sip tea when the boy's throat rasped audibly. Gramps was proud how he'd handled the situation in general.

"Has the Yards made the connection?" Link finally asked after a moment of silence.

"Yes and no. Malo hasn't sent any armed men, but messengers are camping out with the Nareinians. Things are heating up down here. You've been out fer a week. Trisana says that yer main problem was blood loss, infection and lack of food. Ye'll be good to go tonight with a little help of a drink she left. We need to get that treasure before tha world crashes down on tha Lower Levels. Now that mudlark knows fer sure of our game, we'll need to finish quick."

His grandson remained stoic, eyes fastened to the dirty rafters. Jin continued to speak, mostly about the gossip of the city.

"We could just cut the jewels and have them set in gold, sell 'em that way." The teen interrupted.

Gramps only blinked for a moment before sighing. He should have seen this coming. The boy was getting edgy and unsure about following through. "You'll find those stones nigh impossible to cut, Hero. Don't worry yer bare head. It'll all be over soon."

"What am I gonna do after this, Gramps?" The fourteen yeard old looked at his grandfather, brows knit and a frown touching his lips. The old man sighed and gave an indulgent smile.

"Ya know there's more beyond the Lower Levels. I was king of an entire country before you were born." Gramps teased lightly, earning a groan from the teen.

--------

Link stared at the rundown church a little distrustfully. The stain glass had long since been broken out. The brick walls were crumbling, with yawning holes where the blocks had actually fallen out. The roof had long since fallen in, great slabs of rock haphazardly propped inside the walls. The doors hung open, barely on their hinges.

It'd taken an hour for him to find the way below the Lower Levels. It'd involved lifting grates and slipping down, finding holes and dodging steam workers.

The thief hadn't even known that the Levels extended as far down as they did. It didn't even have a true name, its presence lost to everyone. The dusty, oily air was thick, but cool. Steam didn't rise from the pipes, the old dwellings just as decrepit. No life resided here, no massive spiders or bindles.

It was something in the atmosphere that forbad one to linger in the dingy walkways so far below the normal districts. Who would put a temple in a place that was dangerous to pray?

The long-eared boy ignored it, trudging through it with dogged determination. The faster he got this job done, the better. He only wanted to go back to his flat and sleep. His mind felt fuzzy, body stiff in spite of stretching constantly as he walked, and his vision fuzzy around the edges. His reflexes, in his opinion, were sub-par.

He was sure he was ok, but knew that he'd have a nasty surprise waiting for him wherever the alter was that he needed to set the jewels.

The thief picked his way to the condemned church, climbing over the chunks of stone until he reached the pulpit. He gave it an assessing look, rubbing his eyes after a moment as they began to water.

"This is gonna take forever." He grumbled as he inspected the back wall, fingers inspecting for the door his Gramps swore by. "If I run into a wolf…I think I'm just gonna lay down and let it get me."

The lanky teen found the indentions of the door and he took a step back. Using a sharp, flat stone, he carved out the outline and shouldering it open. It banged against the wall, the sound echoing down the tunnel it revealed. He sighed tiredly as he stared down into the pitch.

_Sometimes, I think I would rather have Gramps be wrong about some things._ Link complained quietly, making his way carefully down the stairs. _What kind of treasure would make it possible to stop stealing? A chest full of gold coins? Gold bricks? Jewels? _

A square of light was at the bottom, giving the thief hope that there was an end to the stairs. _I don' look forward to climbing back up here. If I'm gonna be attacked, I'm betting it'll be there._

He pulled out the flask, giving the glowing liquid a doubtful look. Unscrewing the cap, he took a quick gulp. Tears sprang to his eyes, the fluid setting his mouth aflame. He managed to swallow, feeling the burn travel down his throat, thickly coating it. Gasping, the thief replaced the cap and tucked it in his shirt. Nothing spectacular happened so he shrugged and started down once more.

He reached the landing, carefully pressing in the shadows by the frame, inspecting the circle of light on the grated floor. It looked clear and he carefully slipped through the door. He skirted along the shadows, crouching down and shuffling as quietly as possible as his back brushed against the steel wall.

There was no movement, no sounds beyond his shallow breathing. His mind seemed to have sharpened, possessing any possible danger. He didn't feel the lethargy or headache and though his muscles were tense, it was in preparation for a battle he had come to expect.

The heavy iron door on the other side was very much locked, refusing to budge under the teen's insistence. He tried lifting, sliding, and pressing it into submission. There was no handle to try to pull it open. He tilted his head back, lips tugged into an annoyed frown. Well, there was no getting through it. His Gramps would be angry, but he couldn't see a lock to pick.

The thief turned with a huff, ready to give his Gramps the bad news. He paused, taken aback to see a glowing figure in the middle of the previously empty room. He stood a little over six feet tall, his plate armor almost blinding in its iridescence. The red spread eagle crest was vivid against his chest, a scarlet plume draping from the helm.

"What the hell is on his back?" Link muttered, feeling a little numb as his fingers freed the baton from his belt. The white humps unfurled, feathers fluttering away in the sudden movement. Two sets to be exact, gold inlaid along the bone structure and accenting the layers of feathers. "Ah, wings. Very nice. Impressive. I get to fight a seraph."

The seraph turned his right hand, the sword that Link hadn't noticed catching the light and glowing silver. The blade alone had to be forty inches. The winged knight cocked his head to the side, the light striking the visible mouth and chin, revealing a smirk.

Link returned the cocky grin without thinking. This was a human. Human, he could handle. The wings were a nice effect but might be clockwork, which wouldn't be too much of a stretch due to the framework. His heart pounded a speedy beat, pumping adrenaline and the drugs through his veins. He felt reckless and alive, all the stressors disappearing with the thought of a fight. His life was on the line, but so was the knight's.

"HAA!" The knight roared, dashing to close the gap between them, sword in a two-handed grip.

"YAAAAY!" Link cried in answer, rushing in low, body singing with power. He fair radiated it, blue eyes flashing in challenge.

The thief rolled under the thrust, swinging the baton up towards the crotch. The knight did a back flip, effectively dodging, and landing lightly on his feet. His wings tucked in close, lunging forward to stab Link. The teen laid the baton against his forearm, slamming it against the flat of the blade, gliding it along its length as he charged through the guard. Another swing at the knight and the taller figure twisted away, wings spread for balance.

They danced around one another, neither landing a clean hit. Link kept too close for the knight to use his reach to his advantage, the winged knight using his wings to speed every move. They were evenly matched, except that the teen was growing weary quickly as he sweated out the drug where the knight barely seemed winded.

Link bent back and braced his palms against the grating, legs obliged to follow in a wheel move; kicking up so the steel toe boot connected with the blade and effectively knocking it off course. He landed in a crouch, sweat flying from his skin as he burst forward. He rolled under a horizontal swing, stopped in a squat, right hand resting lightly against the ground for balance. The knight stabbed and Link jumped onto the blade, pinning the tip to the ground with his weight. He ran up the length, finally landing a decent hit against the side of the seraph's head.

Unfortunately, the knight bashed the teen in the gut, dashing him from his blade like a pesky fly. The baton rattled against the grating where it fell, the teen flying from the force, hitting the ground and rolling till he smashed into the wall. He groaned, curling in a ball, left arm pressed against his stomach.

He could hear the steady clanking steps of the knight advancing towards him. He coughed, leaning his head against the grating, the cool metal soothing against his overheated skin. He pushed up slowly and looked at the nearing knight. The muscles trembled from the exertion; lungs protesting as he barely gave them enough time to give his blood oxygen. He stood up anyway, head rolling back on his neck; the glazing cobalt eyes never left the knight's helm.

The seraph grabbed the blade in a two handed grip, dragging it along the grating; creating sparks as he began to charge forward, mouth twisted into a grimace. Link turned to face the knight, bending his knees slightly. He burst into the air as the blade neared, flipping into a whip back to land facing the knight who skidded to a halt, wings cupped to prevent him from planting his helm into the wall.

Link knocked the back of the seraph's knees, grabbed the chilly metal work of the wings, braced his hip in against the armor and hefted him back. The knight grunted in protest, but was given no other option. He landed hard on his face, feeling the thief settle onto his back, knees between his wings. A hot, wet forearm slid under his chin until the seraph's throat rested in the crook of the arm. The left hand grasped the right wrist, giving a deft twist and breaking the poor sod's neck.

The satisfying crunch was music to the thief's ears. Yet as soon as he went to move away, it burst into bits of light that caressed him as they rose to the unseen ceiling. Link panted, gooseflesh breaking out over his skin. So he hadn't been fighting something that was real in any sense of the word. It'd been like the suits of armor and wolf.

"No point in stressing now." He mumbled, wiping his brow. The teen closed his eyes, rubbing his sore stomach gingerly. "Spilled rum and all that."

The blue-eyed gaze slid to his crushed baton, sighing heavily. Link went through a good amount of crap to steal that baton from the Provost Guard. "Ah, well…" he breathed.

He glanced towards the iron door, dubious to see it no longer in place. He threw a glance back towards the stairs, confirming that route was still open if he chose to take it. Content to see it was, he headed towards the larger gape, his muscles twitching and burning.

The blue-eyed teen walked into the cavern, a little shocked the expansive space existed below the Lower Levels. Dim light pierced the gloom from a hole at the end, where a statue was settled behind a white pedestal. The scant glow that streamed from above was abysmal, only giving an impression of a plank walk extended over empty space. Water plinked, echoing mournfully as it broke the silence.

"Where in damnation is the light coming from?" Link grumbled as he rotated his shoulders nervously to loosen the tension; sweat breaking out anew, the ambience giving birth to the feeling of being transferred to another world. What would happen if the boards wouldn't support his weight? They looked old.

The teen stepped carefully onto the plank, increasing his weight slowly and waiting for a sign of weakness. It held and he moved onto the next, repeating the process. The pedestal had an artificial shimmer in the darkness, holding the blue-eyed teen's gaze. The air was too thick, filling his lungs and clouding his mind as his body moved forward automatically.

Step.

He walked past an alter with three jewels floating above their dips in the white stone, footsteps reverberating off the Golden light created an almost tangible shaft, enveloping a sword and stuck in a white marble. He walked towards it, his steps unusually small. He wrapped both hands around the sword, but wasn't tall enough and had to step onto the slab on either side of the blade.

Step.

His hand wrapped around the hilt, mist clinging and roiling around his figure, too thick for the noises of the forest to penetrate. The feeling of watching eyes from nearby making his skin prickle as he began to drag the blade from the holder.

Step.

The delicate song of metal gliding against marble, the world around him grays and strangely still. The silver blade slipped free and color erupted everywhere, time beginning its march once more. He pressed the blade against his forehead before raising it high.

Step.

He stood in a world of twilight, the moans of its inhabitants almost musical as he held the blade forth to soak up gold light, giving it a radiant shine that would drive back the most persistent of shadows.

Stop.

Link stared up at the sapphire statue, not remembering past the first step. A strange sense of deja vu overwhelmed him. He could vaguely see a true person beneath the features etched along the surface, his body trembling in the strange rush. The dress flared about the kneeling form, torso bent slightly forward, face tilted towards the pedestal before her. He reached up to touch the face frozen in half-sleep, the eyes appearing to be just slits, mouth parted slightly, and clutching her right hand to her chest tightly. The hair was amazingly detailed, swirling about her form in delicate strands.

His fingers brushed the warm stone, curious and suddenly unsure about placing the stones in their small indentions in the pedestal.

"No!" The voice was thick with terror, but the teen couldn't bring himself to turn away just yet. "Don't wake her! You'll—GAAAaaaaaaahhhh!"

Link jerked around, startled to see Gramps standing on the wooden walkway, cane in hand. His yellow eyes glowed eerily in the dim light and a shiver raced up the thief's spine. The old man gave a crooked smile, voice mellow and deep. "He musta slipped. Put the jewels on the alter, boy."

"Gramps! What're ya doing here! It's too dangerous!" The teen demanded, trying to shake off the chill that clung to him stubbornly. He wanted a distraction from the alien feelings, since he knew answers were long in coming.

"You think I can just sit back and wait? Hell, no! Now. Put the stones on the alter, Hero." Gramps's voice had dipped low, his shorter stance suddenly threatening. Link took a step back, bumping against the marble slab.

The gems flared heat against his chest. The teen winced and yanked them free before they burned flesh. They rose from his hands unbidden and the thief pivoted sharply, backing up warily as he watched them settle into their spaces.

"Yesss…." The old man hissed at his back, sounding at the height of ecstasy. The blue-eyed teen could on stare in dawning horror as blue light began to burn from the statue.

A strong wind swept through the cavern, almost forcing the thief to take a step closer. He raised his arms for balance, watching through streaming dark strands as the encasing stone melted, revealing pale flesh beneath it. The hair swirled in golden curtain behind her, the blue eyes fluttering open. He could almost hear her first intake of breath, color touching her cheeks.

The wind died, leaving the three in the cavern in an eerie silence. The woman looked in her mid-teens, dress of white with blue satin sash around her waist, purple gaze draping over her arms, a gold and silver insignia over her breasts. She glanced away, her lovely features dissolving into confusion as she took in her surroundings. The azure eyes fell on Link, narrowed in concentration before widening in recognition.

"#$! #$#' #$& (?" She sounded confused, the tongue she spoke in completely alien to his ears. It teased his senses, soothing and fluid. It held a musical quality, antiquated in the way the words were formed. Her eyes flickered to his back, hand tightening on the one still fixed in her grasp as fear began to overwhelm the surprise. "(#!"

"&'$ # $& &$. & #$ ( &($# ()#$ # ( )&#$' !& $)( $$(!)(." The new, yet familiar voice startled the thief and he jerked around, flabbergasted at the sight of his Gramps gradually straightening.

Gold light flared from his left hand and Link glanced down, surprised at the warm sensation. It was similar to the liquid heat of sunlight teasing his flesh. He watched golden triangles grow into his skin, the bottom right the conductor of the caressing heat.

Astonishingly enough, he felt as if he were the center of some frightful storm brewing between the two imposing figures. They had their own triangles on their right hands, the woman had hers hidden, but the light streamed from between her fingers.

"What the HELL IS GOING ON!" Link shouted, his voice cracking as he edged into panic mode. His eyes were wide and staring, showing the whites all around the cerulean. The two only gave him a rebuking looks, as if he should be ashamed for interrupting his elders.

His pale skin crawled and his mind scrambled for explanations as the world seemed to lose all sense. A strange feeling grew in his chest and it took the thief a moment to identify it. It was quite like when he faced the armor and wolf, but mixed in with something he was familiar with from being in the job of thieving for so long. Instincts honed from years of anxiety filled nights and training rearing their head.

Consternation, woven tightly with presentiment; terror laced the edges, but he could think through the mental pressure. It was being so utterly out of his depth that frazzled him the most. He wanted to run, but his grandfather blocked the way out. For some reason, he didn't want near the transforming man. The only way he could go was down, which was out of the question to the thief's opinion. He wasn't that far gone as to take his own life.

As his Gramps stepped towards her, the wrinkled dark skin lightening into a deep olive, tightening over filling muscles, hair rippling a dark red. His eyes remained hard yellow, a crazed light making them shimmer. His voice was oily and smooth, the language dripping from his tongue like warm butter.

"#$#$(#$U(#$(#$(#$#($!" The woman snapped, face twisting into rage as her quick mind processed what was and wasn't said. Link watched her for clues, but could only see her dismay and frustration. "(())$!"

"$)#$)(()(#$&(&($ #$&#($&$&(#$#($((#)($?" He reached out and grabbed the befuddled teen by the arm, raising it and shaking it as if to prove a point.

Link knew he should do something, but wasn't sure what. Gramps hadn't actually made any threatening moves towards him. He was just getting younger. Should he fight? Should he try to shake free of the grip? It was too easy to fumble over the side of the platform. Was this the treasure he spoke of; something that would allow him to live in forever youth? What was the woman for then?

"$$($#$&()($!#)$$&(&$$&($&(!" The man stared up at the woman, yellow teeth bared in an angry grin. "$#$Hrncir#$#$$#$." He glanced down at the thief still in his grip, which looked up at him with increasing annoyance. The teen was even beginning to fight him, trying to jerk from his grasp and preparing a fist to strike him.

"Sorry, Hero. I'll need that Triforce of Courage. Be a good lad and give it up?" Gramps give a winning smile, jerked the teen off his feet and tossing him easily off the edge. Link grasped wildly at the air, his eyes darting from his Grandfather's to the woman on the alter. She leaned forward, as if to grab his hand, the triangle glowing brightly on her hand.

"#!"

He would have screamed, but he couldn't even manage to squeeze air from his throat. How far he fell, he couldn't fathom. Light was a distant dream, not existing in the balmy depths. He clung to the sound of the woman's voice to distract him from the rushing wind, memories flashing madly through his mind but the crushing force of the water knocked him into oblivion.

----------

A/N – A little late, but still here. If anyone is curious, Link had a Class III Hemorrhage. He should have been resting for far longer then a week. If you have any questions, e-mail me. Because it's not letting Bob copy and change the font…

"Link? What's going on?" "You!"

"Don't look so surprised, Princess. You had to have known that I wouldn't let sleeping dodongos lie."

"You just can't leave well enough alone, could you!" "I broke the chain for a reason!"

"It didn't coincide well with my plans. I will have access to the Golden Land; make no mistake, Princess. You know how hard it was to keep the little brat alive long enough to achieve this?"

"How many times I had to go through this crap with him? He always died before I was finished with him! Some earthquake, a mine would collapse or he'd fall off a damn walkway. I would almost swear that little brat was doing it on purpose!" "I'll be ending the cycle **my** way, Princess. Of course, that means that my dear 'grandson' has outlived his usefulness. Can't let the boy get any stronger. He'll just make a nuisance of himself."

"Link!"


	5. Contumacious

—Remembering something someone did or "said"—** Dreaming **_Thinking_

_------------_

**Trees spun overhead, the navy blue sky studded with stars. The rushing sound of water all around him, clinging to his calves as the overwhelming smell of the forest clung to his nose.**

**He leaned back, falling through the water, cainking as bubbles bursting all around him. The teen broke through the other side, sailing through the air, arms spread to wide as golden strands whipped in and out of his vision. The face of the Capital building glided a few yards from his bare feet, dirty steel and all. Fat raindrops chased after him, light flashing from their silvery depths. **

**Link twisted in mid air, his feet pointed towards the ground rushing to meet him. His feet punched through fire and lightning, the crazed elements exploding into vibrant colors and sound and the teen closed his eyes in response.**

**The cobalt orbs opened to silver luminosity and mist, a graveyard of swords strewn throughout it the open area with only worn pommels and hilts peeking from the fog and giving proof to a path. A figure stood in a hooded cloak in the center; moonlight shunning the silent form.**

**He strode towards it uncertainly, breathing forming dense clouds from his parted lips. The teen paused an arms length away, waiting but for what he didn't know. The hood turned towards him, the black cloak lined in scarlet emblems rippling as the body followed suit. **

"**Hero." The figure breathed, voice relieved and feminine. "You're…" the hood fell back, revealing his Gramps's old head on top of a man's body in its prime. "…naked! Don't tell me yer gonna leave this world the same ya came in!"**

**Link glanced down and gasped, trying to cover his scrawny, pale form with his hands. **

"**Aw, not like it's the first time I've seen ya bare, Hero. I want that courage…" A dark olive hand reached out, fingers curved into claws towards him. Link raised his hand to ward him off, taking a few steps back into the crimson haze.**

"**Hero." The woman's voice called at his back, the strange language gliding against his skin like a soothing balm. It was strange to understand and not at the same time. The teen turned sharply, seeing her standing in a white hooded cloak with strange symbols scrolling in indigo along the edges.**

**He backed away from them both, hands groping around him. The calloused fingers brushed against thick fabric and he started. Grey silk was draped over his shoulder, white, black, and emerald markings braiding along the hem. He opened his mouth to speak, but the mists swirling about his feet darkened to violet.**

**His gaze shot upward, seeing scarlet and sapphire storms amassing behind the two. Caught in the middle, Link was as steady as the earth that was his element. He could withstand the ravishing of their battles, aligning himself with one or the other to bring them to victory. **

**Radiant, aurulent light burst from below them, etching out the triforce that branded the back of their hands. The glow caught on the argent blade buried in the bare triangle of earth before him, hilt of amethyst; the perfect blend of the two colors that opposed one another. **

"**Hero." The voice was soft and new, but the old nickname still stirred the same agitation in his blood. The teen's head jerked up, looking into large orange irises backed in yellow. The eyes belonged to a floating piebald imp, tattooed with glowing green; a shock of blond tipped ginger hair pulled into a tail. She was outside the triforce, residing in the shadows it created. Pearly teeth were revealed in a mean spirited grin, a long canine standing out. "Are you sure you aren't you forgetting anything important?"**

**Apprehension built inside the teen, sensing the danger that threatened the ones he held dear. He had no evidence to base the sudden onslaught of presentiment, but it overwhelmed him. The triforce beneath his feet burst into a dazzling array of color, overshadowing the others until it blinded even him.**

Link's eyes snapped open, his body restrained and keeping him from jolting up from the pallet. Strong hands were pressed on both shoulders, his sight filled with a man with dark blue eyes, long ears, a shaved head and smooth tanned skin pulled taut over his bones. It was hard to determine the exact age of the unfamiliar male, though he wore rough brown wool cowl.

"Well, well. Good morning, Hero." The stranger said snidely, eyes heavily hooded as his thin lips pulled into a tight frown. His voice was crisp and cold, the accent unknown to the thief.

"Who—" Link croaked before to dissolving into a fit of dry coughs. He pulled at his hands to find them strapped to bed frame, forced to make due with curling as tight as possible as his body convulsed. The stranger pressed a flask of cool liquid against his mouth and the thief took slow sips between the fits. Gasping and sated, he settled back into the pillow, trying to orient himself. The blue-eyed gaze drifted over the extravagantly large room, vaguely recognizing the elaborate electric chandeliers, expensive paneling, and gilded rafting. "The Mayor's place? Who are you?"

"Call me Monk. His son was kind enough to put the room on loan. You should be thankful, considering you burglarized him." The older man pointed out as he set back on the chair, eyes unreadable. Link frowned, deciding not to touch that particular subject.

The teen tugged at his memory. It was all shadows and mists, so he decided to focus on the important issues for the moment. The door opened, but the teen paid it no heed.

"He's awake?" The thief recognized the voice and flicked his eyes in the general direction. Just as he'd expected, Chris Houlihan stood in the doorway in simple leather breeches and short sleeved, white cotton shirt, watching him with one bare green eye and the half mask. "You mean it worked!?"

"Why am I tied down?" He groaned, sitting up as much as the restraints would allow. His head swam for a moment, vision doubling until the teen shut them in self-defense.

—Weightless, air rushing past him and causing his clothing to rustle and snap. —

The lanky thief snapped them open again; sweat breaking out over his skin. The urge to strike someone or something was strong and it abruptly clear why he was held down. He fought to keep his breathing normal, trembling from the force of the remembrance.

His Gramps had tried to kill him.

The cobalt gaze flicked to the other man, noting the satisfied air about Monk. His lips twisted into a sneer; rage bubbling over towards the old man. "I suppose you're going to explain what happened now? Or will you just stand there and gloat over my lack of knowledge?"

"Tempting as that may be, I suppose I can inform you of much you aren't aware of." The man droned.

"How about untying me first?" Link interrupted, head cocked to the side as he looked down his nose.

"As soon as you don't look like you're ready to commit murder, thief." The new voice was a tad deeper and tinged with amusement. Link turned towards him, glad there was at least one person not calling him hero.

The stranger was dressed much in the way as Houlihan, hair was dark green and pulled into a high tail with only a few strands hanging in front of his storm cloud colored eyes. He was a little over six feet, but Link wasn't good enough to judge his age as anything other than 'older then me.' "Don't recognize me? You could at least learn about the family you stole from." 

The muscles along his shoulders tensed, the teen's face not shifting from scarcely contained resentment. He was pissed and good manners be damned if he had to pretend otherwise. He clenched his teeth, taking a deep breath through his nose.

"Errol, the Mayor's son. A pleasure, I'm sure." He gritted out. "Start explaining how I'm not dead."

Monk and Houlihan traded looks, the Mayor's son shrugging his broad shoulders and striding toward the bed and sitting on the foot of the mattress. "It begins with a country named Hyrule—"

"I know about Hyrule." The teen interrupted dismissively. "I don't see how it saved my life, though."

"Oh, do you? Pray tell, Hero." Monk requested in an indulgent tone. Link shot him a nasty look, hackles going up at the tone. Chris leaned close fingers prodding his biceps lightly.

"Hyrule was the name of this country a long time ago. It was relatively safe and peaceful, the ruling family fair and just." The teen leaned away from the touch, easily distracted from memories of the person who taught him of the seemingly meaningless history. "The Royal Family died out though. A new group of people invaded, taking over. They bred with most of the Hyrulians and you can tell the purity of the line from the point of the ears. That doesn't explain how I'm not dead."

"You have the basics, at least. Want the plot fillers, boy?" Errol ignored the second question, gesturing to the empty air. "The Royal Family didn't die out, they were murdered. A nasty customer named Ganondorf, who hailed from the deserts to the west, killed them after the Princess Zelda shut her body and soul in some sort of standby state."

"Which prevented my death." Link stated blandly, getting irritated with the way this conversation was going and Houlihan pulling his lids away to examine his eye.

"This explanation really does go better with color paper cutouts for display. Ah, well. We'll just have to make due." Chris said solemnly, looking a little disappointed and blatantly overlooking the uninterested expression on Link's face.

"Chris, we talked about this." Monk grumbled. "Your artistic skills were sorely lacking. How is anyone going to take us seriously if we explain everything with something that looks like a poorly depicted rabbit?"

"That was a _hat_, not ears!" The wiry man sounded belligerent, mouth tight.

"Chris!" Errol, Monk and Link cried in unison.

"Alright, alright!" The man subsided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"She didn't exist in this reality." Errol continued, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to ward off a headache. That explained next to nothing to the crook, but he kept his silence. If Errol was going to just run over whatever he said, the teen wasn't going to play anymore. "What's been passed down through the Sages, that's the faction Monk and I belong to, Zelda kept the Triforce of Wisdom from Ganondorf's clutches and foiled whatever plan he had."

"Gramps… told me to give him the Triforce of Courage. Your Princess seemed to know me, too. I suppose that had a hand in saving my life." He added in the last part in a menacing tone.

The three men shared another look and the cranky teen had to contain his returning agitation. He hated being kept out of the loop.

"What does your Gramps have to do with anything?" Houlihan asked with a cocked brow. Link grunted and shrugged, so the man turned his eyes to Monk's. When he turned back to the teen, the lens in the mask zoomed in, feeling the teen's skull. "Did you feel anything, looking at her?"

The teen sighed and shook the professor's hands from his head. It sounded too hopeful, as if they had expectations riding on him he wasn't aware of. He answered slowly, thinking out the response as he avoided Chris's touch. "It felt…familiar. Like I'd done it before."

That seemed to be the right thing to say because the trio visibly relaxed. "You…that is, your…ancestor would be the best way to describe it…was the last one in the Princess's company before she sealed herself away."

Link was given a reprieve from being molested, allotting them a moment before bringing up his next question.

"What's a Triforce of Courage and how do I have it?"

"That's more complicated." Errol hedged as he crossed his long arms over his chest, but the thief growled. He gave the teen an amused look. "We're not really sure. Aren't you curious how you're still alive?"

"If you're ready to tell me." The lanky boy replied impatiently.

"I just know that Ganondorf tried to claim it and it broke, selecting you and Princess Zelda to carry the other two. It's chained to your line, passed down the generations." Errol continued to ignore the question, grey eyes smiling. The taller man paused, seeming to consider. Link felt that twitch returning with a vengeance as Houlihan started to try to pry his jaw open to examine his teeth. "Damnit, Chris! He's not a horse for auction! Stop harassing the boy so I can talk to him!"

"You've inherited a mighty legacy, Hero of Time." Houlihan said as he pulled away, looking mildly put off to not be able to play anymore.

"Stop calling me that!" Link snapped, hands curling into fists. "Just because of some freak mark on my hand you think I'm some legend?"

"Apparently you look the same. The Princess recognized you. I'm not sure about the mark, though. I've yet to see one." Houlihan waggled his eyebrows at that and Link felt slightly ill.

"Looks have nothing to do with whatever. It's all genetics. I must have been wrong about her knowing me. I couldn't understand the gilly, so how would I know?" Of course, he knew that she had. Thinking back, he could understand her at least speaking his name a few times. Link didn't want to be the Legendary Hero they seemed ready to pin on him. _I just wanna go home._

"Regardless, you've survived something that should have killed you." Monk pointed out, leaning against the wall and tucking his hands into the full sleeves. "Someone wants you alive. Take responsibility for your actions. Kill the evil Ganondorf and save Princess Zelda from his clutches."

"Hell no! I'm not even sure I even believe you! You won't explain how I even got outta that pit!" The thief shouted, hackles rising once more and baring his teeth. "Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what the fuck to do?"

Errol gave him a pitying look, enraging him further. Monk looked bored, as if he'd expected it all along. Houlihan's hands were twitching in his direction, muttering under his breath.

"It's prophesized that when the Princess was wakened, the world would fall into ruin. So far, it's been correct. Three who hold the fate in their hands: One to enslave and destroy, one to bring harmony and order, and one to protect and dispense justice." Errol informed him slowly, grey eyes dark. "Even if you aren't the Hero, we could use your skills in finding the real one and distracting Ganondorf. Just give me a moment and I'll explain the point of Sages—"

"Let me go! I want to go home!" He sounded petulant, he knew, but it was hard to deny his base instincts. He needed the familiarity of the Lower Levels and their inhabitants. They couldn't possibly ask a thief to seriously save a Princess from some evil King.

Monk tugged the bindings away, gesturing towards the balcony with a hand. "Go, then."

Link stood, stretching his tired and weak muscles carefully. He was in a long linen shirt and baggy breeches, but he'd deal with it until he could get back in his own clothing. His hair, he noticed as he pulled it into his view, was buttery gold. He'd have to re-dye it once more.

He edged past Monk, eyeing the older man as he opened the balcony and swung the glass doors open. The blue gaze turned back forward, shock freezing his blood. A few unfeeling steps brought him against the marble railing, hands barely touching the cold stone.

"Wha….?" He murmured, eyes wide as they took in the unbelievable scene.

The Capital Building still speared the heavens, but he could only see the very top tower and a few tips of the other roofs that had surrounded it. Dirty water lapped along the tiles, so high he was sure it brushed the top steps of Impa Quarter. Ribbons of rainbows streaked through the water, deceptively beautiful. The distant cries of the crows made him shiver involuntarily, picking out floating objects in the huge lake where they perched.

"The people are unsure about calling it 'Crow Bait Lake' or 'Lake of Undead.' Many spirits of the people caught in the sudden tide were crushed or drowned. Nasty death, either way I can assure you. Their bodies are still rising from the muck." Monk told him calmly, as if he were speaking of a rough bit of weather.

"The draughts obviously not a problem anymore." The teen remarked coolly, though he was a raging storm of emotions on the inside. Mistress Cooper, Marks, Tris, Renny, Reno, Travis, Gerad, Ben, and the countless other men and women he'd befriended, helped, and depended on had disappeared overnight. His Gramps and some guy called Ganondorf were trying to kill him.

He was all alone.

"That's how you survived. We found you in a bad way after the water level rose. You were in the caves that Monk frequents." Errol informed him in a neutral voice. "You've been under for near four months."

"I had to put you in an experimental Healing Chamber for a few weeks so your body could heal! After that, I put you in a drug induced coma to give your mental state enough time to recuperate." Houlihan told him in a pleased voice.

"You sound surprised it worked." Errol commented quietly, giving the man an unreadable look. Chris merely smirked, giving the other man a superior look.

"I'm fifteen, then." Link told them, a little at a loss. Where would he go now? "It was a week from my birthday when I went to place the jewels."

The teen turned and strode towards the door. "I think I'll use the front entrance."

"Oh, come now. You're a thief, so act the part. Scale the wall, Hero." Monk taunted.

"Don't _ever_ call me Hero again." He hissed, eyes flashing in rage. Monk said nothing, but a brow rose in obvious amusement. Link opened the door and bracing his left hand against the frame, turning back before he stepped out. "Grow up old man."

"You won't do it, then?" Errol asked. The teen paused, staring out into the hallway.

"No. I'm not who you think I am, look alike or Triforce. I've had enough adventure for a lifetime in any case. Clean the mess yourselves."

Link pulled the door shut with a soft click.

**----------**

The lad slipped from the mansion, chilled from the scene he'd left and walked into. Sick people filled the corridors and rooms inside. The constant chorus of coughs and moans haunting him. The Provost Guard rattled by, a covered cart pulled by them. He could see arms and legs poking from under the canvas, the impression of bodies lining it along the top.

Surprisingly, there were no bodies or sick people in the street. Aside from the cart for the dead, it was relatively clean. People wearing masks and smocks walked in and out of houses, eyes with dark circles and haunted looks within them. Pairs spoke quietly on street corners, some leaning against one another with racking shoulders and grief shrouding their silent forms. Black crepe strung from most of the mansions, the Quarter in a state of perpetual mourning.

"The plague's been persisting for a month. They've been working non-stop to find a cure." A quiet voice notified the teen. He didn't turn, knowing it was Viscen who stood behind him. "Too bad ya didn' join the guards when I invited ya."

Link turned, sapphire eyes meeting black. There was no smile on the guard's face. He stood in civilian attire, but there was no mistaking that bearing. His hair was a little longer, brushing his shoulders. The older man looked tired, run down.

"The guard life doesn't suit me." The teen admitted, turning away and starting down the street.

"You've gotten taller, Mikau." The watchman commented. Link shot him a look before he realized that no one had called him by his true name. It was always lad or hero from Monk and Houlihan.

"I guess. What're ya doin' down here? Doesn' Narein need you or something?" The filcher grunted, shoving his hands into his pockets and hunching. His body protested even walking and it took all his concentration to keep going instead of stopping for a rest.

"Some of Narein's remaining people are down here." Link felt the glance, but didn't comment. "I hear you slept through the Shift."

"The what?"

"Didn' they tell you anythin' up there?" He sounded disbelieving, but Link could only shrug.

The teen gave into the urge to rest, leaning against a wall and sliding down until he was crouching. His breath came in a bit harder than he'd like to admit, his eyes tearing up with suppressed emotion and fatigue.

The guard hunkered down beside him, arms resting on his upraised knees. "The Shift affected everyone. I did a damage assessment a month back. The whole country has been overrun by Unknowns, twisted forests of metal and plant, marshes in the Yards, Dolstrol in ruins, the Water Treatment Plant is putting out poison water and started the plague, and Darunia has erupted. It's not just Kakariko, Mikau. Everyone is suffering from the awakening."

Link listened, head between his knees. His all too active imagination dug up the images and how the others were suffering. He'd never felt so small and worthless before. He knew the Shift was because he and Gramps awakened the girl, but he didn't want admit it out loud. If he did, he would have to fight who knew what and get involved in affairs best left to others.

_What's the point, anyway? It's not like I'd be saving anyone. I don't have Gramps…and even if I did, I would want to try to return the favor he did me on the wooden walk. Even if I could stop whatever's going on…you can't bring back the dead._ He rubbed his face against his knees.

"Narein is gone, then?" Link finally asked, voice dull.

"No. Evidently cutting down the trees that surrounded the village for the few acres we did saved it. The lava missed it completely and the wildfire it started couldn't reach us." Viscen told him with laughter in his voice. He draped his arm around the teen's shoulder. "It's irony if you ask me. Ya wouldn't believe how much a fuss everyone put up to stop the clearing of the nearby trees. Worked out for the best, if you ask me."

The former thief took comfort from the casual touch. Viscen treated him normally, without malice or grudge. He couldn't bring back what he lost, but he could build something new.

The hand squeezing his shoulder was crossing the line and he gave the guard a nasty look in warning. The watchman sighed, looking dejected as he removed the offending appendage.

"What else happened?" Link asked, leaning his head back against the cold, dirty brick wall to stare up into the grey, cloud covered sky.

"A lot of people changed into the Unknowns. Houlihan said it had something to do with the purity of their lineage, whatever that means." Viscen replied, watching the disturbed teen carefully. The azure eyes were hollow and lackluster, lines of strain framing them and his mouth. A silver loop glittered in his lobe and he wondered when the boy got a piercing.

"You're a Sage, then?" Link queried, glancing at the older man.

"Yeah. How'd you beat the wolf?" Viscen rolled his eyes at the obviously faked innocent look. "I know you took the Sapphire, Mikau. It wasn't too big of a jump to link you. If I hadn't been on watch, you'd probably would've went without notice."

"Just my luck." The teen droned in a wry tone.

"You look better with blonde hair. Matches your coloring." The watchman commented offhand, rewarded with rolling eyes as a reply. "So?"

Link remained silent, considering for a moment. He finally gave a defeated sigh and gave a brief rendition of the struggle. The guard didn't make comment for a long while. The lanky teen watched a couple pass them, one leaning on the masked one, obviously sick. He could see nasty boils and black skin.

"Ya've got some luck." The watchman finally said, sounding a little uncomfortable.

"Y'all were screwing with my marks, weren't y'all?" Link accused, looking at the older man.

"If ya'd hit us all right after the Emerald, we wouldn't have had any resistance. That break let us set up defense." Viscen gave a rueful grin and ruffled the teen's hair. "Good thing yer on our side now. Half our own Shifted into Unknowns."

Link didn't say anything, turning his gaze away. His conviction to not become involved had only increased as the conversation progressed. There was no way a lone filcher could do anything against the kind of odds they spoke of. The entire country was sick or changed, life no longer what he remembered. He just wanted to get away from it all.

"I'm not a Sage or whatever." He stood, mindful of the dark look that crossed the watchman's face. "Deal with it yerself."

He began to stride away, listening to the coming thunder. A cold wind cut through him and the sense of life draining from him became prominent. He felt chilly and empty, as if he'd lost something in so firmly stating his position in the affairs.

"We saved your life, Mikau! You owe us!" The man snapped, righteous anger in his tone. "What kinda hero turns from those in need?"

Link snapped, turning sharply and baring his teeth. "I never asked fer yer help! I ne'er asked fer anythin'! I just wanted a better life fer my Gramps and me!" He slashed his hand in emphasis, brows knit. "I'm no damn hero! I'ma mudlark, filcher, puppy piddle, or Lower Level scum! What kin I do against somethin' yer talken' about?"

His breathe seethed between his teeth, rage growling along with the thunder. There was only stony fury on the guard's face. Link's shoulders slumped, hanging his head so the bangs covered most of his face. _I can't save anyone. I can't fix this. I can't make anything better._

"Rot in the hell you helped create then, thief." Viscen sneered, voice bubbling with contempt.

------------

The air was thick with curtains of water, making the visibility next to nil. The suburbs were at his back, deserted except for the dead that awaited the Provost Guard to make their rounds. They offered no inspiration for what the hell he was going to do now. Soaked and thoroughly tired of moping, Link blinked the excess moisture from his eyes.

The thief walked through the town gates, surprised to see the older wooden planks broken on the outside of the city wall. They were replaced with steel, giving more in the way of protection than before. He glanced at the sign giving the times it closed and opened, noting them thoughtlessly. He ran his palm over the wet metal as he passed, ignoring the stinging cold.

_I don't have any weapons. I don't even have my picks. What kind of living can I scrounge up for myself? _He mused, water streaming down his face. His thoughts followed the same track for quite a while, circling back and retracing the same lines from different angles.

A crying yelp caught his attention. The lanky teen frowned, trying to locate the sounds of the cries. He tracked them carefully, mind mercilessly blank from worries or grief-filled thoughts of all he'd lost and questioning why he was still alive.

He stumbled up three hunched figures, their attention on something small in the middle of them. He chunked a rock at them, hitting on in the middle of the back. The screech, roar was unworldly and the hairs on the back of his neck tried to stand despite their sodden state.

"Go on! Git!" Link yelled, trying to appear intimidating with another rock. Three sets of eyes shimmering with an unnatural light focused on him. He growled, holding the rock higher and preparing to let it fly. The three Unknowns, for what else could they be, slunk into the rain and only leaving their uneven footsteps in their wake.

The crook watched them go, but they were lost to the rain filled night. He approached their prize carefully, settling onto his haunches. It was the size of a full-grown cat, the fur long, dark and thick. It was curled into a ball, trembling and wet. He could see the glint of metal along most of its body, blending flawlessly with the flesh.

"Oi." He reached out and stroked the wedged head, fingers edging the flattened ears. "What are you?"

"Link?" The creature uncurled, large luminescent eyes glistening in the weak light. "I phought ya died?"

"Reno?" Link flinched thoughtlessly, unsure if he was right. The voice was familiar, but it was throatier and garbled somewhat. "What happened to you?"

—"A lot of people changed into the Unknowns. Houlihan said it had something to do with the purity of their lineage, whatever that means."—

_Evidently they don't change all the way if they were half and half._ Link thought grimly, unsettled by seeing the redhead boy as a fox creature.

"I dunno. I woke up like diss" He uncurled slightly, using his only real leg being the front right. His ears were overwhelming compared to his head. "Some'phin'ss wrong wiph my body. I cain' move it no more."

Link scooped up Reno, surprised at the weight. He used his shirt to support Reno, scratching the soft ears awkwardly. "I think I know someone who can help ya. Don' worry."

"Where'd ya go, Link?"

"I wuz hurt real bad. I just woke up. How did you miss the flood?" Link asked, trotting through the rain towards the gates. They'd be closed soon, he was sure.

"I wuzz workin' a job in tha quarter when tha Shiffft begun." He buried his snout into Link's throat, not quite sure he believed that the teen was alive. "I melded wit a sheet press at tha factory."

The thief scowled, navigating the empty streets with ease. Reno seemed to have accepted his lot in life. Then again, he'd had a few more months to get used to the idea then Link did. He could hear the groaning gears as the gates closed for the night at his back.

"I told you not to play with those jobs, Reno! Cripes! I wouldn' even play wit tha factories!"

"Ya did so! Ya flilched from Malo!"

"That wuz different! I filched from the President! I didn' go in the actual factory!"

"Detailz, detailsss." Reno muttered, but didn't press the issue. He felt safe in Link's arms. It'd been months since he'd been able to relax. Always running, always hiding. Then his body up and died, leaving him unable to do much of anything but drag it around.

Link felt the fox-Reno relax and finally sleep. He panted softly, blood buzzing. He would pay dearly for this favor, he was sure. The coltish teen didn't mind too much, he finally had a motive to do what they wanted him to. He just dreaded the dangers that were in store. He was a filcher, not a soldier.

He could feel the warmth returning, that strange sense of life that dwelled within him. He knew it to be the Triforce; the part of that he'd tried to deny. It felt good to have it back. Link had felt like less of a person without it.

The teen paused, hiding Reno in the excess clothing of his shirt. He shouldered the door to the mansion open, ignoring the annoyed calls from those tending the sick. It didn't take long to climb the stairs, dodging the people walking up and down the stairs. He could only hope that the so-called Sages were still in the same ballroom he'd left them at.

He trudged into the reception area, leaning his ear against the door and listening. Deep voices talking softly filtered through the thick wood. Link winced mentally, wishing he didn't have to come crawling back soaked and ragged. Swallowing his pride, he gave the ballroom door a savage kick.

The voices on the other side were silenced and he could sense someone walking towards the door. Errol swung the door open, a frown tugging on his too thin lips. His thick brows rose when he saw the dripping boy with a bundle against his stomach. Cobalt eyes peered at him through the clumping bangs.

"I'll do it." He growled. "But under one condition."

"What's that?" Errol asked slowly, concerned about what the thief would ask for. He wasn't going to give the King's ransom for some mudlark's help.

"Fix him." The eyes dropped down to the bundle, the protective arm over it slowly moving to reveal an Unknown in his clutches. "Something's wrong and I can't do it."

"Why the hell are you bringing an Unknown in here, you bloody fool?" Errol hissed, backing away. The boy was more cracked than he thought!

"He's not an Unknown." Link's voice was deadly quiet, gaze intense as it bored into Errol's. His blood boiled in his veins and Reno was the only thing that kept him from striking the man. The fox blinked, turning his large violet eyes to the thief that kept him in his clutches before glancing at Errol.

"I'm Reno." The fox informed the older man, ears twitching in disdain and the eyes became heavily hooded. Errol winced away, not looking re-assured at all. Reno couldn't help himself, giving the older man a toothy smile. Silver teeth mingled with ivory, giving him a very impressive grin. "I t'ink he'z skerd of me, Link."

"You are menacing, ya know." The crook admitted, too amused to be upset.

"My, my, my! My apprentice has brought me a gift! Good lad! Good lad!" Houlihan pushed the mayor's son out of the way, fingers curled into grasping claws as both the lens and the green eye focused on the fox-Reno.

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down, guy!" Link backed away as Reno tried to tuck his head back in the shirt. "I just want you to fix the metal parts of his body!"

"That would require some…dissecting…yes. I'll need to dismantle him." The older man looked positively gleeful, fingers caressing the unwilling fox's fur.

The teen grasped the hand, squeezing it in warning. Houlihan glanced up, frowning at the interruption.

"Can ya avoid taking him apart?" The thief asked patiently.

The man huffed, looking bothered by the very thought of not getting to do as he pleased with the fox. The tall teen shifted his grip, digging his thumb into the tender wrist. Houlihan gave him an amused look.

"I'll try."

"You will."

A disappointed look crossed his face once more. "Very well. I won't take apart anything attached to flesh. I will need to examine his clockwork, though."

"Link, this ain' tha guy ya told me abou' iz, it?" Reno asked, just a tad worried about the exchanged.

"No worries, jock. He'll fix ya up. Won'tcha?" Link eyed the taller man, only slightly comforted by the affirmative. The teen glanced down and quirked a brow at the violet eyed fox mockingly. "Or are ya scared?"

Reno made an annoyed yip and turned his head towards Houlihan. "Aw, well. If ya say so."

Link handed over fox-Reno to Houlihan, hoping that he wasn't handing Reno's life—and his—over to the wrong people. _I shouldn't have to worry if someone is going to dismantle my friend. Cripes. This whole situation is all screwed up._

_--------_

A/N: Bet y'all are used to it being late by now.


	6. The Unseen

—Remembering something someone did or "said."—_ Thinking_

_-------------_

He'd spent the entire three weeks being a nursemaid to the plague victims. It was hard, grueling work. The teen collapsed in his bunk feeling drained and depressed. He knew that his eyes were gaining that infamously hollow look and his lips had trouble moving into a smile. Before he'd just been familiar with death. Now the thief was close to being an unwilling friend with death.

Suffering was a constant for those who rotted under the tender ministrations of the disease. They wasted away till flesh hung from bones, dark freckles sometimes breaking out along the over-soft skin. Their nails blackened and they developed a rasping cough. As the disease progressed, their heads would become more like skulls, eyes bugging from their sockets and mouth slack.

Eating was one of the hardest things to get the sick to do at the terminal stage. The length of suffering was random, but he'd seen almost a hundred die in the last three weeks from his building alone. There were over ten thousand infected people residing in Kakariko, with only a little over a thousand to care for them all.

That involved cleaning, feeding, keeping comfortable, and collecting samples for those rushing to find a cure. Link had to purify himself before leaving the building in scalding water and harsh soap. His skin felt dry and raw from the vigorous scrubbing he endured to ensure he didn't contract the sickness. He supposed he was lucky that the disease spread through water and not air or touch.

He'd been surprised how many Lower Level dwellers had survived the flood. They doted on Link much the way he did on them. Trading playful insults in Lower Cant, they made his duty relatively easy.

However, most of the attendants were originally from Impa Quarter and tended to look down at the former thief. They didn't ostracize or abuse him, but they did treat him with a level of indifference and hauteur when they deigned to acknowledge his presence. Not that Link would bother with them one way or another if he could help it either. The Upper Quarter was spreading rumors that the Lower Levels had started the plague.

They didn't try to hide their suspicions, often talking about it in loud voices near the Lower's pallets. It burned the teen's temper that they would dare suggest such a thing near the just as suffering men and women.

The greatest irony to the teen was his easy companionship with the soldiers and Provost Guard.

The teen hadn't seen Viscen since he'd returned to the Sages. He'd never questioned where the man went or given it much thought. It wasn't exactly the most important thing on his mind. However, the older man had returned as abruptly as he'd left, giving the teen a rude awakening.

The watchman had doused him before dumping a sword and shield onto his stomach. He was blithely informed that his fighting skills would be put to test and he should be quick and meet him in the courtyard.

_I'm getten tired of these bastards thinken' I'm at their beck and call! First they pierce my ear without asking and now they're going to beat me bloody for no reason. What's next? A dress?_

Already in a bad temper, the thief stood before the taller man. The sword wasn't a blunt practice weapon, which surprised the blonde. He could only pray that the guard was as talented with the sword as everyone claimed, for the watchman's was just as sharp. Link's limited training wasn't enough to stand up to a full-fledged soldier.

"Can we get this over with? I have people to look after." The teen stated, feeling a little edgy. Despite not enjoying the constant care the sick needed, he felt as if he were letting them down playing soldier with the older man. The Upper Quarter would neglect his people if he didn't pester and demand it.

"Are you brave?" Viscen asked with a blank look on his long face. Link blinked, a little confused that he would ask such a question suddenly.

"When ya think of my profession…I think ya know tha answer. I avoid fights and sneak around. That's why I'ma sneak thief instead of an armed robber." The teen replied slowly, trying to adjust the shield on his right arm. He'd just bear it. _It shouldn't take too long in any case._

The hair on his arm stood on end and Link jerked the sword in his left hand, blocking Viscen's sudden strike. The thief felt the impact through to his shoulder and dropped the shield to get a hold on the hilt better.

The guardsman switched targets and slammed the teen hard on his exposed shoulder with the flat of his blade. The teen stumbled to the side, shoulder throbbing.

"Never drop yer shield!" He roared in the young man's face. Link winced away, ducking another swing from the blade to dance out of reach. "If yer runnen low on energy and know ya cain' win tha fight, yer shield will save yer life! It'll give ya tha option to fall back an' re-group!"

Link gathered up the shield again, wondering how the hell he was supposed to learn to work with a shield in one day. He slid his arm through the leather strap and grabbed the handle. Rotating his bruised shoulder, he scowled and shook out his sword arm.

Viscen came at him like a charging bull, growling deep in his throat. Link's eyes widened, captured by the black depths; causing his body to freeze in surprise. He regained his mind at the last moment and blocked the swing at his head with the shield. Woodchips flew and the teen growled under the strain through clenched teeth.

_He's using the edge! That bastard!_

He turned his body, using the shield to urge the aggressor past him and throw the older man off balance; he twirled around and aimed a blow at the exposed back. Viscen was nowhere to be seen, but he jerked his eyes to the sky and shielded his body as the watchman dropped from above. The teen collapsed beneath the weight, rolling from under the older man to come up in a defensive crouch.

"No courage for scoundrels, is that what yer saying?" The guard asked easily as he strode towards the boy as he straightened. "Ya fought magical armor, clockwork armor, a wolf and the seraph and ya say ya avoid fights?"

"I didn' go looken' fer that." He gritted out, beginning to circle the advancing guard warily. "Part of the job and I had no choice most time. I wuz locked in tha room wit'em."

"So ya fight if ya've no choice?" Viscen was like a blur and the young thief was hard pressed to block the horizontal swing towards his stomach. They danced around one another, the teen too out of breath and concentrating too hard on avoiding bruises to answer. "Why'dja come back, Mikau? Yer just a filcher! Mudlark! Dog piddle! Lower Level scum!"

Each name was met with a blow that Link either parried with his blade or blocked with his shield. The teen's blood boiled as his words were thrown back in his face. He finally found an opening the watchman's guard, jamming the pommel into the tall man's stomach. Viscen skirted the blow easily, but Link's follow-up by slamming his elbow into the sternum caught him off guard.

Forced to take a few steps back, the teen pursued him, compelling the sentry to take the defensive against the sudden flurry of attacks with sword and shield.

"It'z! Puppy! Piddle! Ya ass!" The thief snapped, face contorting as he fought to find another opening. Their blades clanged and slammed against one another, filling the air and making their ears pulse with each burst of harsh sound. "I don' answer to ya, anywayz! I don' have ta tell ya why I came back!"

The watchman snarled, knocking the thief's sword wide, jamming his free fist into the younger man's diaphram. Link doubled over as his breath whooshed from his chest. He thudded to his knees, wheezing while the guard overshadowed his body.

"That's right. Ya don'." Viscen replied in a bland voice. Link turned his face up, squinting at the watchman. "But I do decide if yer worth our time."

He strode around the teen's crouched form, boots grinding into the earth churned by their feet. Link contemplated taking a cheap shot, but decided it too much effort and merely stood.

"Clean up and come to the ballroom." The soldier threw over his shoulder, heading towards the guard shack. Link scowled at his back, wondering what the hell that was all about.

--------------

The thief stood before Houlihan and Monk a half hour later; relatively clean in his smock, scarf, and gloves. He fidgeted, wanting to go do his rounds.

Viscen leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched the three in the center of the room. Houlihan was staring at a tattered notebook, mumbling under his breath as Monk stared at the teen, not bothering to conceal the malice in the ice blue eyes.

Houlihan flicked a green eye up after a moment, looking shocked to see his surroundings. The long fingers combed through his oily, tousled silver shot curls distractedly as he seemed to try to orient himself. Link wondered if the professor's mind even resided in the real world.

"Ah! Boy!" He gave a warm smile and Link sighed as he gathered his patience. Did he even hear Reno call him by his given name? Neither Errol nor Houlihan called him by it. He was still known as Mikau, making him wonder how much Viscen spoke of him to the other guards. "We have a mission for you!"

"A mission." Link stated, eyeing the man suspiciously. They'd ignored his existence for three weeks and avoided answering any questions about Reno. Did they mean to use the fox-boy as a hostage so Link would do as they bid? He'd been allowing that thought to stew for the longest time, amazed that he hadn't considered the possibility when he gave Reno over.

"So mistrustful." Monk commented, voice dry. The filcher's eyes flicked to meet the matching blue ones. The older man hadn't gotten any more pleasant. Monk seemed to have the uncanny ability to read his mind. "Just because you're a sorry excuse for a human being doesn't mean the rest of the population shares that particular trait."

Link felt his twitch surface as his face began to flush.

"Don' you ever give it a rest, old man?" The teen snapped irritably.

"Did I hurt your tender feelings?" Monk taunted with a smirk, eyes glinting. "A shame. Perhaps if you weren't so ill-mannered as to believe that we would make you do something against your will, I would have no fuel against you."

"I suppose it's yer shining personality and sweet temper that should win my trust. Tell me, do ya work hard to polish that happy nature or does it come with_age_?" The teen asked in a falsely saccharine tone.

"Maybe if you survive long enough, you'll find out Hero." The older man replied in a mocking voice. He grinned when the thief's hackles went up at the nickname, but had no reply.

At least he had no intelligent retort to give. Death threats, dirty names, or curses would only make Monk's victory on that verbal spar sweeter.

Monk twenty-seven, Link twenty.

"My dear boy! I have good news indeed!" The professor easily slid into the beat of silence, stepping towards the thief as he thumbed through his notebook. The three other men speculated if the absent-minded man even noticed their exchange. "I have a task for you."

"Wuzzat?"

"I've found the cure to the plague." Chris handed Link leather rolled up tightly and mummified with twine. The thief frowned and picked at the string. "DON'T OPEN THAT!"

Link jumped and let it drop, hands up and palms forward to show proof of emptiness. Chris scowled and propped his fists on his hips, unknowingly crushing the notebook. "Pick it up, boy!" The teen crouched, watching the older man cautiously as he slowly picked up the bundle before standing again. Houlihan nodded, satisfied. "You'll need to go to Renado Sanctuary."

"The graveyard?" The teen asked in disbelief, quirking a pale brow as he tucked the leather into his smock. _Why would a plague cure be in the graveyard? You'd think they'd have found it way before now if it'd been so close._

"Yes, now don't interrupt!" Houlihan chided with a grin, ruffling the boy's sandy locks. "You'll need to gather the plants depicted here—" he blinked in surprised at the abused notebook. He straightened it out best he could before shuffling through until tearing out a sheaf of paper and handing it to Link. The teen flicked his gaze at the likeness of various flowers and a mushroom on the crinkled, ink-stained ream. He quirked a brow before tucking it in with the leather, so Chris continued. "They'll be in the furthest room back. You won't be able to miss them. I cannot stress the importance of what I'm about to tell you next. Are you listening?"

"Yes, Houlihan." The teen droned, hoping that the man would finish so he could get the errand over with. The faster he got the ingredients, the faster they could make a cure. He fair shivered with anticipation. The teen's life had revolved around his sick friends and the idea of saving them being so near anxious to begin the task.

"It's imperative that you accomplish this at night." The older man rested his hands on the shoulders that were beginning to broaden, green eye boring into blue.

"At night. Got it." He shrugged off the hands easily, taking a step back to regain some personal space. He was tempted to question why, but really wasn't sure if he wanted the answer. It was entirely possible it would make sense to the teen, but the chances were slim. Viscen and Monk had used up Link's patience for the day. Sometimes, it was just easier to do as he was told.

"Remember! Night! And don't open that leather until you've entered the cavern!" Chris repeated, looking more serious than the teen had ever seen him.

"Where's the entrance?" Link shifted slightly, his legs aching from the abrupt morning workout. He knew that hoping the watchman had similar pains was futile. At least he'd have an excuse to crash after he visited his wards. If the uppity bastards had a problem with his skipping out, he'd send them to Chris or Viscen.

"Where's what?" Chris asked blankly, obviously having already falling back into his own world, the lens over his right eye tracking something only it could see. Monk rolled his dark eyes, taking a step forward as Houlihan faded mentally.

"Along the eastern cliff face in the cemetery, you'll see a ledge a little over fifteen feet high. Climb up there and there'll be an opening that's man-made. I believe the rest is self-explanatory." He told the thief crisply, eyeing the muttering Chris dubiously.

"Thanks for clearing that up, old man." The thief's lips twisted in amusement at the sight of the two. Monk was always picking up where Houlihan left off. If their relationship weren't so akin to twins who could follow each other's line of thought, Link would suspect them sharing a bed. _As disturbing as thought is…I seriously don't think that Houlihan has interest in anything like dancin' with gillys or jocks. It's disturbing how devoted he is to science._

"You wouldn't need it if you'd take initiative and scout the area before nightfall."

"If I did that, then ya'd only be Houlihan's dancen' gilly. Don' ya like ta feel a little more useful, bindle?" Link bared his teeth in a parody of a smile, turning from the fuming man to walk to the door. Viscen snickered behind his hand, moving so the boy could exit the room. "Best get ta maken' yer buck's lunch."

The thief walked out the door, not surprised when Viscen was on his heels.

"You shouldn' antagonize him like that, Mikau." The guard murmured softly at his back. Link cast a glance back, shoving his hands into the pockets of his smock.

"If ya'd listen, ya'd know that he starts it all by his lonesome. Ya don' really expect me ta take that kinda abuse all meek?" The teen asked bluntly, blue eyes swimming with amusement. He wouldn't take nastiness from anyone again. His ego was still bruised from being duped for as many years as he had been by Gramps. It didn't take that much of a leap to come to the conclusion they weren't related by blood.

"Monk's going through his own thing." The watchman started, expression shielded as if he wasn't sure how much to say.

"So he's gonna be a cockbite to me at every turn?" Link growled, bristling. "I didn' do shit to tha ass."

The guard flinched but didn't answer right away, letting them descend the stairs before changing topics. "Hit yer rack. I'll make yer excuses and leave some gear by yer rack. Just get tha cure, Mikau."

The teen turned with a frown; head beginning to shack in unacceptance of such an order. "I can't just go to sleep. I need ta take care of my blockers."

"Yer what?" Viscen looked a little bewildered and the thief rolled his eyes in frustration.

"My mates, buddies, brothers, friends. The Lower Level sick. If I don't watch them Uppers, they'll overlook 'em." He stated, crossing his arms over his chest in mild agitation.

"Why would they do that?" The older man quirked a brow, unaware of the continuing prejudice since all the sick from each city was kept in separate quarters and tended by their own. He'd had no reason to look closely at Kakariko and their care.

"They think that the Lower Level is where the plague started." He informed the watchman. "It's stupid, but they won' listen to what I say. I'm one of them, not an Upper. What do I know?"

The last was said bitterly and the guard quirked a brow. The taller man fondled his own earring thoughtfully. If what the teen said was true, he'd have to dispel the rumors before they reached ears that could actually do damage. The last thing he needed was quibbling between the civilians.

"I'll see to it, shorty. Didn't think ya cared so much." The watchman rested his hand on the soft hair, grinning when the boy scowled and knocked it away. "Just do yer errand."

-----------------

Link stood under the arching sign of the cemetery, staring into the mist-shrouded gloom. The amount of stars in the skies was astonishing, but not surprising that half of the country's population now relied on candle and torchlight in the cities once more. The silver glow lent to the ambience, glistening off the dew clinging to the white marble mausoleums.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, disliking being in the eerie location. The chill seeped through his cotton shirt and baggy brown trousers. The boots were sturdy enough, but fourth or fifth hand. Sadly, his bracers, picks and jacket hadn't been saved. The sword Viscen had left beside his bed was strapped across his back, the shield placed over it. He was able to secure another slingshot, which he kept secured in his belt next to the pouch of ammunition.

The thief took a deep breath, dredging up the will to walk past the broken iron gates. His footsteps went unheard against the moist soil, the clanking of his equipment muffled by the fog. The thick vapor swirled and parted for the teen, wisps teasing his exposed flesh. He passed the rows of mausoleums, varying shades tombstones jutted from the haze before him. Half were listing, while some were hidden in the opaque covering and making going a little harder than need be.

Link stepped carefully, eyes scanning the area cagily. He'd never really believed in ghosts before, or magic for that matter, but he'd seen the phantoms over the lake. Filmy apparitions with milky eyes and ragged clothing gliding over the still water surface, damning the living with their piercing stares and creating fog from the cold that swathed their insubstantial figures. Sometimes their spider web strands of hair floated lazily about, as if they were still beneath the deadly calm waters, while others had it plastered to their skulls and dripped silver moisture from drenched clothing.

It'd been beyond frightening to witness their rising. The teen had been thankful that he hadn't caught a glimpse of someone he knew at one point. No one dared to chance the waters edge, unsure of the specters' intentions.

_There better be a damn good reason for me to be here at night. Like the plants only bloom at night or something. _He griped silently, treading through the maze of gravestones to the ledge containing an ominous, gaping hole far above his head. He trembled, only then noticing that his tripes and muscles were tense with contained fear.

Taking a deep breath to steady the jangling nerves, he jumped against the cliffe. His boot toes scrambled for purchase and his fingers found niches to grasp. The thief scaled the wall quickly, scrambling over the ledge. He stood up and dusted off his knees to cover up the action of ridding the sweat from his palms. Lips pulled into a stubborn line, the teen slipped into the cave.

He closed his eyes and walked into the depths. There was no light and he needed his night vision to be able to have a prayer to see through the pitch. He kept his footsteps quiet, knees bent and boots rolling over the floor to keep the sound at bay. He only got about thirty steps in when he heard leathery rustles above him. He stopped, hunkering down and opening his eyes. The light was barely worth mentioning, but he could see it reflect off the red orbs above him.

In the dimness, he could make out tiny bodies all hanging from the high ceiling. Wings opened and closed periodically, squeaks barely at a pitch that his long ears could detect.

_Oh, hell. I hate bats… _Link's lips twitched a little; sweat beading along his back in spite of the chilly, moist air. _I'm going to kill Houlihan. This has to be his fault, somehow._

One gave a loud screech, flaring out its wings. The teen yanked his shield from his back, holding it over his head and shoulders. The keese dropped from their perches, launching at the teen. He listened to their furious cries as they thudded against the wooden barrier. The filcher gritted his teeth, right arm pinned and trying to scrunch further under it in case the keese's aim got better. He yanked out his slingshot with his left, but had no way to load and fire while under attack.

Putting it back, he jumped up and bashed as many of the pesky beasts away with the shield. He drew the sword and began a hasty game of stickball, slamming the creatures before they had a chance to touch him.

It was a relatively short battle, ash exploding around his lanky, quick moving figure. The remaining bat-Unknowns fled to the entrance, leaving the boy to glower in their wake as he brushed the ash from his hair and clothing.

_I really don't want to have to fight anything. I know they were human at one point._The teen frowned in the darkness, guilt pricking at him. _I could be killing someone I know…but I guess it doesn't matter. It's not like they're the same. They're not like Reno and kept their minds. _

He could, of course, just leave. Then he wouldn't have to worry about moral battles or getting torn apart from the nasty beasts. He really didn't feel like fighting or adventuring. He didn't like pain.

_So don't get hit._

He could almost hear Monk's sneering reply and grunted as a flush spread. _There's something wrong when I start thinking about Monk's replies._

There was a mildly selfish reason to move on and deal with the nasty creatures.

He could contract the plague.

It was in his best interest to move on, so he growled and fumbled in the darkness. His senses became keener in the dark, eyes able to distinguish the elements of the cave without light. The dense walls amplified even the smallest of sounds, tickling his sensitive ears and making them twitch.

The strange thing was that he was beginning to think that he was being watched. It came from all directions, making his skin prickle. Not that he sensed that the presence meant him any harm.

The insane thing was that he was starting to suspect that it was the cavern.

It was silly, to think that an area would be aware. The part of his mind that still denied magic flinched from such a thought, while the other rolled it delicately about to try out the taste.

_It's possible and I'd be an idiot to dismiss it so fast. It's still…not a good thought that I'm running through something that's…alive._

He tucked the troubling thoughts away to chew on later. The last thing the thief needed was to be distracted if an Unknown decided to call. Light, so he could find out what Houlihan gave him, was in order foremost. So the thief dragged the pads of his fingers against the gritty rock face about the height torches were placed.

He was shocked when he managed to find a torch lodged in the wall. Next he fumbled with the flint, since Viscen didn't deign to give him a lighter till he got a decent flame. Another test, he was sure. The damn guard always seemed to find some way to piss the teen off.

However, the sudden flare of light disturbed not only the keese roosting in the gray stone ceiling, but the blue, red, and yellow chu-jellies that were sleeping on the moist floor. Link sighed, seeing the inevitable and went to work dispatching the squawking, leaping, annoyed Unknowns.

The spat lasted only a breath and Link began the next arduous task now that he had light.

Getting all the twine off that damn leather roll.

"Damnit, Houlihan." He growled as he picked at the string. Of course, he would free one strand to discover a couple dozen residing beneath it. It took him ten minutes to free the thick sheet of leather. If he'd had a dagger, it would have taken less time…but Viscen only loaned him a sword, clothes, belt, flint, and shield. No picks or knives. There had been a hat, but fat chance on him wearing it.

Grumbling still, he unfurled the roll to discover that it was a map. A little surprised, he brought it closer to the flickering light.

"How did Houlihan get in here and create a map without getting the ingredients?" He muttered, identifying markings for chests. A flashing green mark caught his eye. "How does it do that? It shouldn't be able to do that. Magic?"

He walked forward a few steps, the hair rising on the back of his arm when the dot mimicked his movement. What if that old nut job never made the map?

"How would he magic the leather? How the hell would he know how to?" Link rolled up the map, tucking that tidbit along with the living cavern._ I guess there are some things that I should just accept. I'll try to shake the information outta the old man when I get back._

The thief went after chests first, discovering first hand that the cavern was indeed aware. For some reason or another, it liked to trap him till he destroyed the Unknowns in certain rooms. Link took it in stride, not seeing that he had much choice in the matter. He decided that the cavern just wanted all the Unknowns exterminated. Would an aware cavern be uncomfortable with hostile creatures in its depths?

After the first torch was lit, the rest of the rooms were surprisingly bright from other torches or unknown sources. For the safety of his quickly unhinging grip on sanity, he decided not to question it and just be thankful. Flint was a pain in the ass to use.

The thief explored and pondered; fighting off any Unknowns he crossed. Standing in front of a large chest with two silver keys in his pockets, he did concede to himself that he'd lost site of the target in the midst of his looting.

So, he flipped up the lockless latch and flipped the lid. He was surprised and pleased to see a blue boomerang nestled in gray sand.

"Well, well. This is nice." He picked it up, satisfied with the heavy polished wood in his grip. He turned and tossed it, watching it twirl about the room to slam back into his raised hand. He grinned, tucking it into his belt. "This'll do."

The reluctant adventure headed back out, discovering uses for the keys and delving deeper into the living maze. He even settled into a routine, no long getting worked up over a couple of keese or chu-jellies. Even when the snapping plants popped up, he didn't even jump. He'd pick up any of the plants that grew in strange shafts of light in quiet corners.

The last door before the passage that led to the room that Houlihan claimed the cure was…Link paused. The wooden planks banded together looked pretty ragged and shoddy. The doors had been stone slabs that he pushed to the side.

_Why would I need to go all the way back here for the cure when it was strewn about the cavern, anyway? This doesn't make sense. Then again, when does Chris make sense? Cripes. I got a bad feeling about this. _He kicked the door open and stared into the pitch-black corridor it revealed. He tugged at his blonde bangs for a moment, contemplating the wisdom of entering it. There weren't any torches that he could reach and the darkness seemed to repel the warm light.

The thief didn't get much of a choice, seeing how something suddenly shoved him into it.

"GAAAH!" He flew into free space, arms and legs flailing wildly. Air rushed past his ears and the blonde filled his lungs to let out another wail. He was sure that he'd grow tired of screaming at some point, but till then, it was the best way to display his panic.

Light bloomed below him, shimmering scarlet and wavering like fire. A gold triangle was at its center, growing steadily as the thief closed the distance. He fell through the sheet, barely noticing the flare of heat the coursed through his veins as he absorbed it.

He landed, face first, with a grunt in a pile of random bits of clothing. He pushed up his torso slowly, looking around. He wiped the sweat from his brow, nerves tingling from the surge of adrenaline still coursing through him. The open area he'd landed in held the cistern for the city.

Pipes from the water treatment plant ran along the walls and ceiling, all eventually connecting to the channel that would take the water to Kakariko. The cleaning system was obviously not in operation, seeing how Link could the lack of chemicals in the containers that fed into the tank.

The cistern had also been ripped open and now piled with rotting corpses, accounting for the rancid taint in the air.

"A whore in church…" he murmured, paling at the sight. His flesh crawled and his stomach threatened to reject his dinner. "That's what's causen' all this."

How was he going to fix this? It was evident that clearing the bodies would help, but the water was still tainted. Another treatment center would have to be set up and he didn't have the know-how nor tools to even attempt it.

The thief scrambled out of rags, breathing shallowly through his mouth. He tripped over something heavy, stumbling a few steps. He glanced down, eyes alighting upon an onyx, rupee-shaped block. Precious gems were embedded inside of it, glittering with a dark, cold beauty. He picked it up, shocked at the weight for something barely six inches long and three inches wide. The thief tossed the pretty piece back and forth in his hands, mind wandering as he glanced about room.

He walked around the cistern, forearm over his mouth to further filter out the smell and stumbling over the connecting drain. There was junk piled all around the area. Strangely enough, it was all sorted out into different groups. Household items, clothing, shiny things, dishes, machinery and pieces of buildings all stacked hap-hazardly around the room. It was odd, to say the least, and the long eared teen wondered who sorted it and why.

_Someone must still be down here. Who, though? Must be an Unknown. Who else would stack the bodies of the workers into the cistern?_

Slow, deliberate sounds of bare feet hitting rock echoed in the thick, polluted air. The rasping noise of something being dragged steady in its wake. Link paused, listening to the indistinct mutterings of someone as a piebald rat rounded a pile of machinery.

Not just any rat. It was an eight-foot long, minus the tail, orange jacket-wearing rat. The creature froze, noticing Link. They stared at one another, blue eyes on red, unsure of what to do next. The rat shook away its stupor and stood on its hind legs, displaying its glaring sex. It bared its yellow teeth, incisors clicking.

"Intruder! INTRUDER!" It squealed, voice rasping from vocal chords barely formed. "Who are you? WHO ARE YOU?"

Link jumped at the first sound of the rat's voice, beginning to back up slowly. The rat saw the bauble still in the teen's hands. It bristled and screamed.

"MINE! GIVE IT BACK! MINE!" It leapt at the teen, who had dove behind a pile of sinks and tables. He ran around the rat-made maze frantically, fighting his conscience that didn't want to kill the talking beast. He secured the ornament inside his shirt, the belt keeping it from sliding through the bottom.

"Where are you?" It called out in a soft, lilting voice. He could it hear it following him slowly, tracking him by sound. "Where are you? There you are."

The blonde jerked around, pulling out his boomerang. He threw it, ignoring the pang of regret, since it probably wouldn't return if it hit something. It slammed into the rat's bulging stomach, knocking the beast onto its back. It squealed in outrage and Link was fascinated when the weapon returned to him.

His gaze flicked about as he navigated the heaps, mindful of the sounds of the struggling rat. The filcher dodged a few items that the thing chunked at him. Irritated that he had to keep a constant eye on it, since it slowed him down a great deal in finding a place to hide.

He could see where the rat came from, but didn't want to just leave. He needed to clear on the cistern or something. There was no way he was going to return to the cavern if he could help it. Stopping that blasted rat was the primary objective before he could start anything.

"There you ARE!" The rat cried and the teen pivoted, bringing out his shield just as the creature slammed into the wooden barrier. He rode the teen the ground, snapping at his face. "You took it! It's MINE! Give it back!"

"Shuddap!" He roared into the face. "Ya left it out! It's mine now!"

The red eyes blinked in astonishment, head rearing back. A nasty look crossed its face and it sneered.

"Thief! THIEF! YOU ARE THIEF!" It screeched in rage, only to have his tirade cut short by the thief in question kicking his boot in the tender area between its legs. It cried out and curled into a ball, slipping off the boy.

Link didn't hesitate, bashing the rat in the temple with the hilt of his blade. It groaned and slumped, down but not dead. He panted, glancing about the area. The only solution he could see was breaking the pipes…but he didn't know if he would survive if he did.

The filcher paced around the maze of pipes, hands sliding over them. Link could feel the water rushing strong under the metal. He kept his sword out, trying to decide how to fix the situation. _Maybe I should just block the flow from the cistern. I'll tell Chris and Monk, have them form a crew to deal with the mess._

"DIE THIEF!"

Link ducked thoughtlessly at the declaration, hearing a metallic whirr and streams of air disturbing his hair. A heavy crunch and grown followed afterwards and the blue eyes glanced up through his arms crossed over his head. A multi-bladed disk had buried into the huge pipe beside him. Water began to seep from between the metal and pipe, dribbling into a puddle beneath it.

Staggering to his feet and stopping beside the rat, he stared; slack jawed and uncertain on what to do. He should run, but would he be fast enough?

_Cripes, this is a mess._

"Now ya've done it." The thief snapped, smacking the rat on the back of his wedged head since it was still hunched low enough for him to reach.

"I blame you!" The rat replied, teeth clicking in the teen's face.

The pipe trembled and Link paled, turning and running for the only exit.

"Running is good! Get moven' lackwit!" The thief roared over his shoulder, sheathing his sword.

The rat thundered past on all fours, Link not hesitating to grasp the wiry, bi-colored fur. The bi-colored rodent turned and growled, but kept moving while the teen situated his body over the orange, sleeveless canvas coat.

Metal shrieked and echoed through the roughly dug tunnel. The rushing roar of water chased them. Link glanced over his shoulder, blue eyes wide as he saw the white crush tearing at the walls a few hundred feet and closing.

"Faster! Come on, Lackwit!" He tightened his thighs about the barrel chest, lying closer to the fur despite the musty smell of death that clung there.

"I DRIVE! YOU SHUDDAP!" Lackwit screeched back over the crash, claws scrabbling as he drifted into a turn without crashing into the wall.

The teen could see a circle of starlight above them and felt hope well inside him. Sadly, the water crushed into them, hurdling the pair faster through the tunnel. Their screams tangled together as they fought the surge, trying not to become swallowed by the dirty foam. The water swallowed them both, sound beyond the rumbling current of churning bubbles and foam encasing them.

Link's lungs begged for air and his head pounded fiercely. The two tore at each other, desperate for air. Reason had no place in the midst of the panic that consumed them.

The pair was spat into the sky, free from the water and gasping. They both landed heavily on the ledge in front the cavern opening. Link, thankfully, had his fall broken by the waterlogged body of Lackwit. The rat squealed in displeasure and pain, precious air whooshing from his lungs.

The teen rolled off, careful to settle on his side so his equipment wouldn't bruise his back. He began to laugh weakly, staring through his soggy bangs into the sky that was beginning to gain the kiss of dawn.

"We're some lucky sons-a-bitches, Lackwit." The teen wheezed as he finally forced his sore body to rise. The entire cemetery was flooded. _Good thing it was in its own bowl. I can't imagine the shit I'd be in if everyone panicked, thinking the area was flooding again._ "We just saved the everyone."

The rat hissed and shook the wet from his fur before standing on his hind legs to survey the damage. He scratched the back of a tattered ear before replying.

"You destroyed home." Red eyes accused him, but Link only snorted.

"You threw it, Lackwit. Look at this though, now you have new home." The teen grinned, inwardly wincing since he'd have to swim back to shore. Diluted or not, there were still dead bodies in there.

"My stuff!" Lackwit whined, punching the shorter human on the shoulder. The boy's eye twitched, but he slapped the back of the rat's shoulder and dove into the water.

He did sidestrokes to shore, praying he didn't sink from all the equipment loading him down. The last thing he needed was to drown with the cure in his pocket.

Or worse, have Monk save him again.

------------

A/N: Ok, that was one of the hardest chapters I've ever written. I won't say that Assassin's Creed had anything to do with this. Or Phantom Hourglass. Or Blue Dragon. Or staying out too late at an old buddy's house from my last ship.

(Shout out to the USS Kitty Hawk, who got screwed out of a port call to Hong Kong!!!)

Heh-heh…Sorry. Those four issues didn't factor in at all…much. I didn't get to put all that I wanted into it…but risking me taking another day or two wasn't an option. I know at least five people who actually like my story(at least enough to review) I feel like crap for taking as long as I did.

I didn't even get to put in the Omake I wanted to do. Ah, well. I hope that this chapter sits well. I know, I slowed down again. Hopefully I'll be able to pick up the pace and add decent (read: real) fights in the next chapter. -


	7. Ruffled

Link stood outside the ballroom reworked to suit Houlihan's needs. He rubbed the back of his neck, not liking the nervous feeling beating about his stomach. After he'd dragged himself from the newly created lake, the thief had snuck into the room and placed the requested plants on Houlihan's table to dry. The showers had called to the tired lad next, a pit stop to trash the polluted clothing delaying him only a few moments.

He knew it was folly, but he'd neglected his soaked weapons and dropped them unceremoniously beside his pallet before falling into the softness. He'd curled around the strange stone crest protectively under the covers, slipping into a dream of rats and precious gems until the sound of the workers rousing for their morning routine dragged him from them.

He'd fretted momentarily, but geared up anyway. He'd have to give the equipment back to Viscen in any case. First he wanted to see if Chris brewed the cure so he could administer it to the Lower Level survivors. With the crest tucked into his shirt, he set out for the makeshift lab. He knew the heavy thing stood out, but he didn't see much of a choice. The teen didn't want the Sages to have it, but keeping it hidden in his belongings was asking for trouble.

Not to mention that the blue-eyed young man suspected that either the Viscen or Monk probably riffled through his things. There was no proof; just a sense of something had gone through his stuff. He couldn't even say for sure if it was the Sages, considering he

berthed with almost two hundred men, it could be anyone.

_Paranoia's gonna do me as much good as a hole in the head. Once I get Reno and see the Plague gone, I'll just settle down. Maybe I'll move into another city._

He gave a couple of sharp claps and pushed open the door.

Houlihan, Errol, Monk and Viscen were all clustered around a large table. Their heads jerked up simultaneously, eyes locked on the teen. The look of astonishment on their faces was priceless. Sadly, it didn't take long before the Mayor's son ruined any pleasure he got out of their reaction.

"Fire and Ice! The foist made it back alive!" The gray eyes snapping with pleasure as his lips pulled into a grin. "We assumed you'd met your end in the puddle you'd created."

"Pay up, Errol." Chris ordered, a palm held up expectantly. The dark haired man scowled and slapped a red rupee in the taller man's hand. Viscen snickered as he approached and Link had to contain the flare of agitation at the exchange.

"Why is it you always end up flooding something after a job?" Monk asked dryly, eying the scowling teen. "I'm surprised you didn't lie there and wait for me to save you again."

"The thought did cross my mind, but I figured having ya wade through water more then once would be too much fer yer old body ta handle." He replied snidely, brows drawn together in bother. _Smartass Monk. I'd like ta wipe that look from his damn face._

They bared their teeth at one another, distracting the thief enough for the watchman to get closer than he would normally allow. The guard grimaced when he discovered the condition of the loaned gear.

"What tha hell didja do to yer weapons, Mikau?" The dark headed man grabbed the sheath, water stained and still damp. He yanked the boy also, dragging his back close. "It's soaked! Don' tell me ya didn' clean yer weapons after dousing them! Damnit, boy! I bet ya just dumped them and crashed!"

"Hands off, old patroller!" Link snapped, trying to unbuckle the belts across his torso and waist, but it was too tight to free either tongue. "I was fucken' tired! Give me a break!"

"Yer weapons are yer life, ya two-rupee crook!" He lifted the teen off his feet, shaking him to emphasize his point. "I'm gonna knock some sense into that blonde head of yers!"

"What's that in your shirt, thief?" Errol asked; brow creased as he strode towards the flailing teen. He tugged at tucked in shirt, ignoring the indignant yells of the blue-eyed boy.

"Devil take it! Keep yer hands off-a me, bleater!" He growled, slapping at the hands. "If ya'd give me a sec, I'd let everyone see!"

The shirt was tugged free from his trousers and down the crest fell, thudding hollowly onto the thick rug. Silence reigned for a moment, but surprisingly enough; Houlihan was the first to reach the pretty thing.

"My, my, my! You always bring me such nice presents. Now this looks interesting." Chris hefted the piece thoughtfully. He traced the jewels embedded with his thumb, walking away from the quiet teen still hanging from Viscen's grasp and the shocked adults. "Onyx…this shape…the way the gems are arranged…Oh, yes. The design really does resemble…"

Link blinked, the random chatter from the cracked professor snapping him out of his stupor. He jammed his elbow into the guard's ribs in a silent demand to be released.

The black-eyed man grunted; giving in and letting the boy drop to his feet. He watched the teen mutter darkly as the sheath was unbuckled and handed to him. He inspected the sheath, frowning at the damp leather straps. "Where didja get that pretty thing?"

"In Lackwit's lair."

"What?" Errol sounded intrigued, glancing up from staring over Houlihan's shoulder.

"The rat."

"A friend of yours, then?" Monk interrupted with an amused gleam in his cobalt eyes. Link shot him a warning look.

"A real rat, Unknown type. Like Reno, 'cept stupid." He clarified, silently daring the bald man to say anything about his changed friend. After a brief pause, he continued to explain the events in the cave.

"Surprised you didn't drop this thing." Errol hefted the piece gently, brows furrowed. "It's not light."

"Houlihan." The long-eared teen glanced at the older man, who was sketching a likeness of the crest in his notebook and comparing with another. The green eye flicked his way, the curly disarray as he pulled at the locks. "When will you start on the cure?"

"What are you talking about?" Chris asked; sounding honestly confused. The teen didn't reply, having a dark feeling about how this conversation would progress from then on. "We already took care of that."

"So the herbs hunt you just sent me on…"

"Oh, yes! This makes an excellent tea!" His green eye lit up and he stepped towards the drying plants, seemingly forgetting his work.

"What?!" Link yelped, feeling the blood begin to flood his face. He was hoping that he wasn't hearing the taller man correctly. "You said it was important!"

"It is important! My supply was getting low! I love tea!" An affronted look crossed Chris's face, as if he couldn't believe the thief didn't understand. "How can I start the day without it?"

The corner of the darkening blue eye began to tick. Monk didn't bother covering up his guffaw and Link took a deep breathe as his fingers curved in longing to be around the taller man's throat.

"The boy's speechless!" Houlihan looked pleased. "Would you like to try some?"

"Really, Chris. I don't think red is a shade of extreme pleasure. Though. I could be wrong." Errol informed the man, looking mildly amused. He turned his gaze to the teen and set the bauble on the table. "The plague symptoms didn't fit. There were too many extra and the victim's condition degraded too quickly. The root of what was making the plague impossible to identify was inside the cistern treatment plant. You did stop the source, mudlark."

"Why did I need ta go at night?" He couldn't keep the aggravation from showing and it only served to frustrate him more.

"Isn't it obvious?" At the pregnant silence Houlihan gestured grandly to nothing in particular. "What can one feel in a graveyard in the middle of the day? Nothing! At night, there is ambience, suspense and intensity! You're always on guard, waiting for something to happen!

_I'm gonna take that 'ambience' and shove it up his ass! _The thief could only produce the single coherent thought in the shocked hush that followed. He knew his teeth were bared and his long ears were crimson, but he couldn't work passed the red haze.

"Didn' ya clean the damn blade a-fore ya jammed it back home? What kinda fool cain' look after his own gear!" Viscen, ignorant or disregarding the teen's rising temper, snapped. Link jerked his head towards the guard, his control shattering.

"How tha hell ya 'spect meh ta know that?!" The teen exploded, tense muscles trembling slightly. "Ya dump tha' shit on meh an' bid me on my way! I'ma filcher, notta soldier! I use a damned baton, notta fucken' sword! If ya want yer gear back picture-perfect, ya best teach me!"

"Temper, temper Hero." Monk chastised coldly.

"You call me that ag'in, I'll break yer curst jaw, Monk!" The teen roared, swinging to face the bald man. "Y'all're like wolves! Wind and rain! Ya tear at meh a'fore I kin walk all za way inta tha damn door an' report!"

"Nyah-haaaa!" The thief twirled around, eyes wide as a red and silver blur rushed towards his chest. He grasped the heavy object, breath jolted from his lungs, stumbling back a few steps. A pair of purple eyes set in a wedge skull looked up at him, black nose twitching.

"Reno! Ya devil!" Link whooped, holding the kit up high with a grin. Reno yipped and chirped, back feet pedaling as his hybrid body wiggled in the teen's grip. The thief's gaze raked over the fox, surprised to see a scarlet sheen in the metal.

The strange metal was along the fox's belly and throat, stopping just under the jaw. The lifeless part of Reno's body was layered, allowing him just as much freedom as any living limb. The movements were noiseless and smooth, making Link wonder if man could make it. The largest surprise was when he noticed that Reno had not one, but _four_ tails that were longer than his body.

"Took yer time!" The kit yelped, tongue lolling. He wriggled free of the thief's grasp, running down the arm to perch on his shoulder. Link winced, keeping his right up to support the extra weight; the metal nails digging into his flesh.

"I wuz runnen' an errand." The teen replied, voice dark as he remembered the onlookers. He wasn't surprised to see their (with the exception of the fidgeting Chris) entertained mien. The large eyes peered over the blonde head, ears twitching.

"Houlihan! Give it!" The fox demanded, bracing his real paw in the golden strands. The boy's voice seemed the snap the absentminded man out his world. The lens locked on the fox until the rest of him followed. He dug into his trousers pocket, still muttering.

Chris tossed something at the thief, who caught it out of reflex. He looked down, perplexed to see an ornamental wind-up key. He tucked it into his pocket, a pale brow cocked in question. "Wuzzis?"

"His internal power source was corrupted. From what I gather, it was from intensive physical activity that worked down the widgets connecting the springs. There was too much grinding the blah blah to the blah essentially breaking the blah which snapped blah." Houlihan finished easily; waving his finger in a fashion that suggested his importance. Link just stared at him through silted eyes, lips parted in a dumbfounded expression.

"Huh?" He was sure that Chris was actually saying words, but they seemed to have blended together.

"Wind him up when he stops. Keyhole's on his chest." Chris actually said quite a bit more, but Link filtered out anything that didn't seem important. Houlihan didn't seem to notice the thief's inattention, continuing to ramble as he turned back to his workbench. The teen sighed deeply, deciding that it wasn't worth pursuing.

He turned and headed for the door, not bothering to bid the others goodbye.

"When'dja get an earrrring?" Reno asked as he opened the door. Link didn't answer verbally, though his twitch betrayed the sore spot nicely.

----------------

The thief had settled with his feet off the edge of the roof, leaning against the spire. The night sky spread over his head like a diamond-studded shroud. Fog played about the city streets, torches flaring like willow-o-wisps in the silver. Crow Bait Lake was still as glass, the phantoms doing their dance over the too still surface. Their whispers lent the air a harsh chill, begging and damning in the same breath.

"What happened during tha Shift?" He asked quietly, warm breathe bursting into clouds as it past his lips.

Reno padded up beside him, violet eyes wide as they looked over the scenery. His many tails flicked about his form, ears twitching to catch the sounds. "Madnesh." The fox-child replied simply. He turned his sharp gaze away from the older boy he'd always admired. "E-rrol'sh Mayor by proxshy."

The lanky teen blinked, this being news to him. No one really spoke to him of the current state of the city beyond its people. Even then it was very brisk unless he spoke to the guards of Lower Level sick. He just didn't bother asking before, it seeming taboo to speak of the Shift.

"Hish father wuz felled under an Unknown after tha Shifffft. All tha Lowerz dat survived were up in tha Upper'z Market." Reno was silent for a moment, lost in memories after his own Shift. "I…changed…got outta dere and saw…tumult. A lotta tha guardsh wuz tryin' ta beat off tha sudden flood of Unknowns. Just panicin', all of um. Tha Unknowns weren' e'en fighten'; only skerd an' confuzed. They ran dem outta tha shity. Thunder started…but dere were no cloudsh in tha sky. There wuzzen't any time fer screams. Only water crushing, churnin' and swellen' from below. By tha time it dawned whot wuz happenen'…it wuz too late. It wuz too late the moment the Shift started."

Link was silent, unsure how to offer his sympathy without hurting the boy's pride. His own blockaded emotions seethed, battering his resolve. Tears trickled from the corners of his eyes, giving proof to the tenuous hold he had.

Reno leaned against the teen, his body not offering him the simple outlet of tears anymore. The mutual quiet gave more solace than either would admit to. Sympathy was shared and comfort given, neither having to truly face what they had lost. The moment was enough to quell the grief for the time being.

"No one tells me anythin' except what ta do." The thief grumbled into the night, wrapping his right arm around the fox.

The teen became silent, cocking a leg up so he could rest an arm over his knee. Clouds blocked the moon, the argent shimmer darkening to black without the extra light. The winds picked up, brushing timid ripples over the lake surface and Link sighed along with the breeze.

"Nothing makes sense." Link told him softly, left arm hooking around the spire to tangle in his gold locks. He told the fox-Unknown about the woman under the Lower Levels, the Triforce, and waking up in the Sage's care. "Gramps pushed me. He told me that I had to die. Then these bastards are tellen' me what ta do, always screwen' with me. What tha hell should I do?"

"I hate you."

The long-eared teen started, blue eyes jumping to the smaller figure at his side. There was no inflection, no emotion; just a simple statement that left the taller boy stunned into silence. The glittering eyes turned up to stare at Link, the face too foreign to pick out the motions playing over it.

"Yer not tha only one confused. It'sh like knowing fire ish bad." The head cocked, trying to find better words to explain. "Tha Unknowns. Me. We feel a deep rage fer you. I fight hiz call, cuz I know ya."

"Ganondorf?"

"Aye. Tha' jock'sh frenzied fer yer blood." An ear flicked and he shook his wedged head after a moment. "But no' crazed. He'sh cunning, tha' one. He know'sh ye'll come. Tha Sagez are tha same. They're alwayz staren' at thish book an' tryin' ta tranzlate, so'z they know what ta do next."

"What do ya know about tha Sages?" Link asked curiously. It was amazing how adult Reno was acting. Then again, the thief didn't know the trials the fox-Unknown had faced the past three months.

"Not 'nough ta butter toasht." The fox grumbled, laying down and tucking his live paw under his chest. "Houlihan moshtly experimentsh. Takesh notesh and tha like. Monk doesh lackey work, givin' ordersh an' such. Vishen and a couple doshen more do tha leg work, gatheren' information fer Chris."

"How many people are in the Sages?"

"I cain' tell. Too many an' they don' alwaysh talk aroun' me." Reno replied, yawning widely. "I kin only tell tha' those tree run thingsh."

"Hmm." The blue orbs were steady as they stared into the distance, mind at work with the little information he received. "I want that book."

"I know were dey keep it." Reno offered, excited at the thought of accompanying his idol on a job. Link rested a hand on the wedge head, finger and thumb stroking behind the soft triangles.

"We'll work on that a little later. I wanna make sure that everyone heals from the plague. Those asses probably won' use me ag'in anyway."

---------------

_I just had ta jinx myself._ The thief thought bitterly as he stared at the three Sage leaders. _What tha hell could they want this time? The Plague's not a problem anymore. Maybe Chris needs me to hunt him his favorite dinner._

"We need someone to help the Gorons." Viscen finally said, breaking the lengthy quiet.

"The what?" Link furrowed his brow, unsure he even heard the man correctly.

"They're a new race that occupy Narein." The watchman elucidated with a rueful grin. "I forget you've been stuck here while I get to play. Rock people. After the Shift, I took everyone that hadn't changed down the mountain when the sickness started. I knew that Kakariko was having similar problems and I didn' want it ta spread. Their people have been going missing and have asked for help."

"No offense, but why me and not you?" The teen asked, openly curious. Reno's tails swished down his back and he scratched under the long jaw thoughtlessly. _It seems as if he's already friendly with the Gorons, so he should be the one to help._

The watchman's lips twitched, black eyes flicking to Houlihan and Monk, as if he were deferring the question to them. Monk shrugged and Chris gave a grin.

"You've done so well for us so far! I knew you'd want a chance to get out of the city. Test your mettle and gather data for me. I have a few things you need to investigate while you're there."

The blue-eyed teen narrowed his eyes, suspicion touching the corners of his mind. "You don' wanna risk losing Viscen."

"Well, aren't you sharp?" Monk droned, blue eyes hard. The thief's lip twitched. "Viscen has proved to be quite an asset. You on one other hand…are a mudlark. You have, on the other, proved to be apt to carry out the most menial of tasks. It won't break my heart when you fail miserably, so never fear. However, we can't you going up there looking like gutter scum. Viscen, give him the clothes."

Reno could feel the heat emitting from the long ears as the teen's temper began to rise. He wuffed softly, draping a tail over the blonde hair to sweep before the young man's vision. The metallic white, bushy tip tickled the blade of a nose and the blue orbs crossed in order to focus on it.

The cycle of anger was broken and Link snorted, tweaking the black nose lightly. His attention slipped back to Monk and he quirked a pale brow. "Tell me how ya really feel. Besides, I never said I'd go."

"I don't believe we gave you a choice." Monk replied darkly, mouth a flat line of disapproval.

"Just how are ya gonna make me?" Link asked, anticipation threading through his veins at the scent of a battle. _I'm no one's play pretty or errand boy. I'll be damned if they think I'll heel. _"I never pledged ta ya Sages. I offered services in exchange fer Reno to be fixed."

"I don't recall you stipulating the payment for Chris's time."

"Must suck when yer mind starts slippen." Link stated in a mocking voice. "Look, I said I'd take a stab at killen' that Ganondorf character. I never said I'd run Houlihan's errands or keep up good relations with yer blocks in Narein. I haven' heard a peep abou' this so-called tyrant since I've been here. No one talks about him. He doesn' seem to exist to normal people. You haven't given me any floor plans so I can scout his place, not even a location. I really do think y'all're just thinken' this threat up."

"Are you suggesting you assassinate the man?" Viscen cut the others off, sounding taken aback, running a hand through his mahogany strands. He'd seen proof of the mad man in the castle that never existed before in the Nocturne Plans. _Mikau's only seen very little of the world Post Shift, let alone most of the people in Kakariko. Maybe if he'd talked to Plains and Dolstrol survivors…_

"I figured that's what y'all wanted." He pointed out, ignoring the nervous flutter. He'd been worrying over what the Sages had in store for him. Reno confirmed the existence of Ganondorf and he would never question the boy. He would the Sages intentions. How did one kill someone who'd single handedly taken over an entire country in less than a day? Who wielded magic? _Cripes. What do they want me to do if not sneak in and slit his throat? Duel with him? If he were such a badass, then I'd have no chance against him. They must think I'm canon fodder._

"You're more foolish than I originally thought." Monk stated; arms crossed over his chest.

"Or not as obedient." He countered with a dark look. "I'm not duty-bound to do anything more fer y'all beyond Ganondorf. So, tell me Monk. Why should a mudlark do anything that you ask? Why should I break my back fer some wastrel who couldn' care less of tha means to tha end?"

"Maybe if we ask real nice, you'll consider?" A female voice asked from the balcony. Link and Reno swiveled their heads around, seeing the outline of a body through the lacy curtains. The figure walked forwards, hips swaying and brushing the drape from her path. The thief couldn't keep his eyes widening in shock as he recognized Tris in a simple, sleeveless forest brown dress that brushed just above her ankles. "Or I could add in a couple of bribes to sweeten tha pot."

Link didn't fight the grin that spread over his face, not even noticing Reno as he yelped and pushed off from his shoulder. Her auburn curls pulled into a frizzy tail with a wine colored ribbon to hold it up, her chocolate eyes bright as she watched the begging kit.

"I never did thank ya fer tha help from last time." He admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He liked the woman, but she never ceased to make him feel his age. Though, if she was here…that meant she was part of the Sages. "So yer one of them?"

"More of less. I wuz with Chris to tell him that you'd made yer move when the Shift started." Her dark eyes met blue. The thief didn't stop the frown, gaze migrating to the bare ears. They were long and delicate, but not as much as anyone's in the room. The older woman sighed, a somber smile twitching on her lips. "I wasn't unscathed…"

Fragile wings extended from her back as she turned around. Moth wings a silvery emerald with black strips pattered across them like clouds against the heavens. The bottom set had bursts for vibrant scarlet on flaming oranges where they met with a frosty blue along the icicle edging. They were intense and beautiful, like a sunset in a foreign sky.

"I could think of worse." Link finally managed, unsure if she needed comfort or praise. The wings lowered slightly to show the amused expression she threw over her shoulder at him.

"They're heavier than they look. Melded with glass, metal and God knows what else on the table I fell against. Not to mention poisonous. Chris was very disappointed to discover I couldn't fly with them." She brushed them with long fingers and he could see the greenish-brown tinge of her hands and arms. Her bare feet mirrored the appearance and were wrapped around the arch and heel with tattered bandages. "It does have its good sides, though. I make potions now, better than the slap-dash bit I gave you last time."

"Did…?" The teen was almost afraid to ask, knowing the most likely answer. Tris's appearance had revived a hope that had long burned to ashes. Her poignant look was enough to burn them once more and he ignored the hollow feeling eating away at his insides. He gave her an impish grin, changing the subject to avoid embarrassing himelf. "Whatcha gonna give me to be yer bag boy?"

"Hmmm…" The full lips pulled into smile, fists propping on her hips. If it was one thing Lower Levels loved to do, it was dicker. "Two of my new red potions, fer starters. That's if you wear the clothing and settle the Goron issue."

"Depends on the clothes. Settling the entire issue? Come on! How good can those colored drinks be?"

"No side effects from the last, I can assure. Much better. If yer not satisfied with my product, you could stop working for the Sages all together."

"Hooo? Satisfaction guaranteed?" He joked lightly, mind turning over the conditions. "What exactly is the issue? Just Gorons going missing?"

The door swung open and Errol stepped through, a heavy cloth bag on his arm and boots hanging from his fingers. A green-black brow rose when he saw Tris and Link facing off with pleasant expressions but sparks rising between them. It didn't seem pressing to ask exactly what they were doing, so he dumped the sack onto a clear space on the workbench.

"We'll work around the outfit." Tris conceded, fingers stroking her bare arm thoughtfully. "Errol can tell you about the Goron's situation better than I."

The taller man blinked and twisted his lips thoughtfully as he leaned against the bench. "They're just going missing in the mines they've set up. The search parties haven't returned and it's not like the Gorons are tender bunnies. They're really hardy. The leader, Darmon, has offered to sell us the bombs and explosive powder they cultivate if we investigate."

"Wait, wait, wait." Link held up a hand to forestall anything else that came from the man's mouth. "Yer tellen me that a very 'hardy' race is disappearing and they want us, who aren't nearly as resilient to find them."

"For explosives." Errol put in with a grin.

"And research data!" Chris added from his corner. Viscen and Errol winced at that.

"If Houlihan wants it so much, why doesn't he go?" The thief grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the older man.

"Ah…He has. The Gorons can't abide him. He's been banned from Narein." Viscen admitted. He cleared his throat at the despairing expression on Houlihan's face and the questioning one on Link's. "He wanted to observe their mating habits and offspring to see if the Shift changes were genetically encoded."

The long-eared boy didn't hold back the disbelieving face he threw at the absentminded man.

"They're being very unreasonable about all of this! It's for science! Science!"

"Yes, well. With that aside…that's why we'd…hoped you would go." Errol continued, fingers pressed against his forehead in a warding gesture. "You're a not going to follow all of Chris's orders for starters."

Link snorted at that, beginning to understand but not liking it one bit. What if he ran into a nasty Unknown?

"You don't have to stop anything. Just find out what's making the Gorons go missing." Errol stated, sensing the line of thought the thief was running down. "Just a recon mission, nothing more, Thief."

The teen walked over and riffled through the bag thoughtlessly, wondering if he should trust them or not. His fingers brushed against unfamiliar fabric and a frown creased his brow. Freeing the garment from the bag to inspect, his eye twitching at the sight of silky, shimmering white leggings. "Cripes this is small! I don't think I could squeeze into these if I wanted to. I'm not wearing this."

Monk looked at the hose and scowled at Viscen who sighed dramatically. Link glowered at the old patroller.

"Well, it was worth a try. You don't have to, Mikau. The trousers are at the bottom."

Tris's lip twitched at the fake name, eyes sparkling with suppressed mirth as she met the azure orbs. The filcher shrugged, not concerned. He did wonder if she would allow the farce to continue or not.

Reno clamored up his back once more, peering over his shoulder as he continued through the bag. He was pleasantly surprised to discover a pair of bracers mimicking the design of his old ones; lock picks and all. The thief didn't conceal his pleasure as he strapped them onto his forearms, flexing and twisting his arm to test the fit.

"These are real nice." He commented, an honest smile on his lips. The fox sniffed them curiously, making soft growls of approval. "They'll extend enough for me to grow, too."

A pair of white leather trousers was folded neatly and he snapped them open, shocked at the stiffness of the hide. He draped them over his unoccupied shoulder, rummaging a bit more. He yanked out the last piece of clothing. Oily canvas bunched in his fingers, the fabric the dark green he'd always had a predilection for.

"It's a dress." The disgusted teen pointed out, glaring at the offending garment. Reno snickered on his shoulder, tails beating his back.

"It's a tunic." Monk corrected, though his face revealed the amusement he derived from the teen's discomfort. "Perfectly acceptable garb for mangling and still appearing presentable."

Cobalt gazes locked, drilling into one another.

"I'll look like a gilly."

"Then cut your hair." Monk countered.

"I don't wanna wear this." He growled stubbornly. Tris guffawed, holding her stomach as she bent forward. He scowled. "Four bottles and I get refills when I get back!"

"Four!" The demand startled her out of the laughing fit. She grimaced, her mind tallying the amount of red potion that would actually entail. No telling how much the teen would use on the trip, either. Her supply was actually pretty small and it took a week to cultivate her toxins into something that wouldn't render a person into a comatose state.

"I'll need a sword and shield again, too." He added in an annoyed tone.

"You'll get lessons on how ta clean them from me, first." Viscen jumped in, still annoyed the state of the gear from his last trip. "I'll have ta switch tha sheathes as it is."

Link tugged at his blonde tail, trying to decide if the mess was worth it or not. Reno fair trembled on his shoulder and he gave the kit a curious glance.

"We're gonna go, right?" the boy asked quietly, purple eyes shining in anticipation. Link winced away from them, wishing that Reno wouldn't look so expectant. "Pleaze? Ya shaid I could dansh wit' ya an' yer gilly next chime…"

"Fine!" Link collapsed beneath the wheedling, the snickers from the others left him undaunted. He shot hard looks all around. "Just cause I'm doin' this doesn' mean I have ta do tha next errand y'all think up."

"Sure, boy." Errol said with a knowing grin. The thief groaned inwardly; Reno was a known weakness now. "Go try on your stuff."

----------

Link stepped from behind the screen, garbed in the clothing and shin-length boots. The boots were heavier than he was used to. He could feel the steel plating over the toes and the straps over his shins were lined with mail to give him added protection.

The white shirt was the one he had earlier, high collared and laced at the throat. The bracers were strapped over his forearms, but sadly, he lacked gloves. The laces at the tunic's throat were left hanging, the short sleeves really not worth commenting on. The dark brown belt had a few empty pouches that he had arranged on his sides since he had a tendency to be knocked flat on his back.

_Last thing I need is ta bruise my back cause I cain't land right._ He thought gruffly.

He felt strange and the stiff leather trousers needed to be broken in. Tris strode forward as he fidgeted. She tugged the tunic lightly and made a few sounds of admiration. The teen was secretly relieved that Reno had opted to go with Viscen to fetch the gear.

_Even though I could still probably thrash him if he laughed. I doubt Chris would appreciate us tumbling about his workshop, cause I know Reno's gotten stronger if not larger._

"A little long, yet, but this'll do. You'll stretch another few inches and you'll fill it out nicely, I think." She clucked for a few more breathes before fingering his blonde bangs. "You'll need a trim. I assume ya want it tha length pre-Shift?"

"Yeah. That'd be nice, Tris."

"Last, but not least!" Chris said grandly. Link glanced around the woman and all but hissed. The old coot had a long green hat in his hands.

"No way in hell am I wearen' that!" He spat, bristling and backing away from the offending headgear.

"But…it goes with the outfit!" Houlihan sounded wounded and held it out beseechingly. The green eye implored the teen to just wear it.

"No hats! No way!"

"But—"

"No!" The roar cut off the man's sentence.

"Just—"

"I'll Shift before I wear that!" The thief ground out, bristling. "No hats. Period. End of story."

"Awww…" Houlihan actually pouted, fidgeting with the green hat dejectedly. No sympathy was revealed from the teen so he shuffled off to the corner.

Tris chuckled, tucking four flasks of her red concoction into one of the larger pouches.

"I'll trim ya and Viscen will arm ya. Sooner we're done, tha sooner ya can leave and report back, right?"

--------------------

Link walked towards Narein's gates, feeling a headache brewing between his temples. The thin air still didn't agree with the tall teen, making him cranky unless Reno pestered him into drinking from the water skin. All the equipment didn't make walking any easier.

His sword was across his back in a left-handed draw, shield situated over it. His boomerang was in an easy draw on his left hip, flasks on his right. He'd gone ahead and stuffed the slingshot at the small of his back. Tris supplied him with a wallet, which he kept down the front of his tunic beneath the sheath's torso strap.

The kit was on his right shoulder, two tails wrapped around his throat while the others hung. He was licking his chops, a smug expression in the violet eyes. The fox's recent hunt had been fairly successful and he'd related it in detail to the tired teen.

It quite clear why he needed to be as equipped, seeing as there were no trains running nor rigs even the humans were making a steady recovery in Kakariko. There was no one to ensure that the roads didn't get overrun by Unknowns, so the teen spent a good amount of time avoiding fights when warned enough by Reno. Some had actually tracked the thief, so he had to dispense them before continuing his way.

He'd run out of forest halfway up the mountain. The remaining path was ashes and charred remains. It made seeing Unknowns easier, but gave no real cover if he wanted to avoid battles.

"Are ya skerd?" Reno asked, large orbs flicking over the tall walls of the mountain town. Link didn't reply at first turning over the question in his mind.

"Of meeting tha Gorons or of whatever is making them go missing?"

"Boph."

"Hmm…" The blonde head tilted, staring up at the cloudless sky. "Haven' really thought about it. More of the later, I guess. I have a feelin' I got suckered inta fightin' somethin' nasty."

"Ya don' trusht them?" The kit sounded curious.

The cerulean eyes flicked to the purple just at the edge of his vision, face grim. "Reno, the only person you can trust is you. Those Sages got a goal an' they don' care how they get it."

"They're doin' what they phink iz right." Reno pointed out. "There're alwayz lossessss."

"It's the art of war, I know. They're not talkin' about war, though. This is more like frondeur tactics, if what you told me is true." Link pointed out, remembering the discussions he'd had with Gramps and tactics and history. "They're not facing him head on. They're sticking to the shadows and nibbling away at his defenses."

"How could he not know who they are?"

"It's possible he does, but doesn' consider them a threat. It's possible he's controlling them behind the scenes and they're unaware of it. Or they are aware of it and are just trying to feed him false information. I don' know. I'm not sure how strategic any of the players are." The teen rambled on for a moment, wondering what he would do in either Ganondorf's or the Sage's position.

"Ya shure know a lot." Reno sounded somewhat awed and Link reached up to scratch the wedged head lightly.

"Gramps an' I used ta talk about it a lot. I've been hangen' with tha soldiers a lot lately." He admitted. "There's a lot going on that I dunno."

"Ya don' trusht God?"

"I don' believe in God." The teen answered bluntly. _How could I believe that there's a being that loves us dearly that would allow this to happen. No. I don't believe in God, or heaven and hell. _"I won' rely on something that I cain' be sure exists. Nah. I'm tha only one that I understand the intentions of."

"What'z that?" Reno asked; ears twitching as he digested what the older boy said.

"I fight to survive, not sport. I look out for me and mine. No unnecessary risks. No infamy. Not to get too emotionally involved." Link grinned, knowing that he sometimes slipped on the last. "I just wanna live and do my thing."

The kit didn't say anything after he finished, mulling over the words as the pair approached the gates. Two figures were silhouetted in the opening, their forms towering and thick.

"Here goes." The thief murmured to no one in particular, covering the distance quickly. He masked his surprise at their strange appearance, giving them a lukewarm smile.

Their heads were large and oval, silvery tufts of wiry hair at the top of their skulls. Random patterns the color of sand swirled around their belly and chest. Thick lips framed wide mouths, their pebbly skin ranging in earthy brown colors. Hard, ivory humps covered their spine. Long, thick arms bunched with corded muscles over their chest. Everything about them was blunt and hard, from the cold looks from round purple eyes to nails to teeth. There was no nose or ears to really speak of, only holes for each.

"What do you want?" The one of the right asked, voice sounding rough and thick, more like a rumble from his chest. The thief flinched inwardly, wondering if they really asked for help from outsiders.

"Viscen sent me. I'm here to talk to Darmon." He stated. _Reno's tails probably make me look like I got on a boa or something. Cripes. I guess I cain' blame them for being suspicious. How many people walk around with Unknowns on their shoulders?_

The guards shared a look before the one on the left, curled into a ball and rolled away. Some of the teen's composure slipped and he gave the remaining Goron a nervous glance.

"That's convenient." He managed after a moment. The Goron didn't answer and he ignored the urge to make useless conversation. He let his gaze roam instead, picking out the differences in the Gorons that chatted and mingled about the road leading towards the Market. They were all male, as far as he could tell. They wore loincloths and little else.

_No wonder Houlihan wants to know how they breed._

Some hadn't made the Shift completely, still retaining human eyes, hair, noses, and ears. It was somewhat disturbing to see the mixes, but stranger still were the few that had metal appendages like Reno.

The town hadn't really changed in itself. Chickens still clucked, dogs barked and the windmill turned faithfully. He found his eyes wandering towards Stalfos, wondering how it faired the Shift when he heard an approaching rumble.

Two Gorons unrolled, one being the guard and the other new. He didn't make the change completely, because he could see the auburn taint in the wiry thatch of hair that lay flat on his head. His eyes were bi-colored red and gold. He was a head taller than the others, well into seven feet.

"So you're the one that Viscen sent." He greeted the teen with massive arms crossed over his chest.

"You must be Darmon." Link held out his hand, palm up in greeting. "Shad."

The duel colored eyes flicked to the hand before a grin spread over the Goron's lips. "We don't greet each other in such a manner anymore, Shad. We're not human."

"How…uh…do you do it now, then?" He asked uncertainly. It seemed strange to the thief that they would try to segregate themselves from humans so quickly. He would cling to his customs if he'd been Shifted, or so he would think. _We divided before the Shift. By where we lived, how we lived and how we looked. I guess…it doesn't matter._

"Hugs." The arms swung out wide and Link had a strange vision of him being crushed in the embrace of the taller, stronger man.

_Good relations, Hero. Just give the man a hug._

Link tugged at his recently trimmed bangs, wondering if Monk was now his new conscience. He stepped forward, Reno leaping from his shoulder when he realized the filcher's intentions, and wrapped his arms around the large belly, not getting much in the way of a grip. The large Goron swept him up into a backbreaking grip and he let out a squeak as the air left his lungs.

He let the teen drop from his hold, watching the lanky boy gasp and wheeze. Link felt like he'd been crushed. He'd heard his ribs creak and was sure they'd been ground to nothing.

The Gorons watching the exchange gave braying laughs, filling the teen with a niggling feeling that he'd been had. Darmon slapped his knee as he leaned forward for air.

"I can't believe you fell for that! Viscen didn't tell ya anything about us, did he?" He exploded, wiping tears from his eye.

_I'm gonna kill that damn old patroller. _The teen thought, face flaming as he heard the giggling yelps of the kit behind him. He forced a couple of chuckles from his bruised body and pride. He couldn't see much of a point in staying annoyed when they felt at ease enough to tease him.

That and there wasn't much he could do in retaliation.

Link stood up and dusted off his seat, a slight smile on his face. Reno jumped back onto his shoulder, still snickering into the long ear. The thief did his best to ignore the little Unknown and tried to get back to his reason for visiting.

_It sure as hell isn't building relations…damnit._

"Have ya already found the lost Gorons?"

"No, not yet. I would have gone in after them…" The gruff male answered. The small entourage they'd gathered gave him a hard look and he held up big hands for peace. "…but as you can see, there's much dispute over that."

"They're in the mines as far as you know?" The teen confirmed with an understanding grin.

"So they told ya something. Didn't give you much in the way of armor, though." He commented, bi-colored eyes flicking up and down the lanky person.

"They said that I just needed to find your men…They probably assumed I wouldn't be fighten' much." Link shrugged, deciding it wasn't worth remarking on beyond that.

"The mines can be dangerous. They've been overrun by machine Unknowns. We usually have guards with the workers, but they've gotten out of control since my miners have gone missing. I've some armor you can have. It's not like it'll fit us anymore."

_Well, isn't that nice…you should thank him Hero._

_Cripes, old man. Give me a chance to talk! _The thief thought irritably, trying to figure out why he would think of comments from Monk of all people. "I would appreciate it. I just hope I'll be of some use to y'all."

A large hand waved dismissively as he gestured to one of the Gorons on duty, murmuring something quietly before the guard nodded and rolled off. The other Gorons began to drift off, leaving him with the guard who'd fetched Darmon.

"We'll wait in the guard shack for him to return." Darmon informed the boy. "How about you fill me in on the status of things in Kakariko to kill time?"

------------

OMAKE!!!!

"I'll need a sword and shield again, too." He added in an annoyed tone.

"That'll be fifty-eight rupees for the sword and sixty for the shield." Monk informed the teen.

"What?" Link yelped in astonishment. "I got them for free last time!"

"Yer taking them out of town. Warranty and all that." Viscen added.

"This's bull shit! You ask me to do you a favor and save yer town and yer charging me for a weapon!" The teen exploded.

The guard shrugged helplessly. "That's business. Now pay up."

----------------

A/N: I know! I know! I said that it would speed up and I lied! I have a slight obsession with character development! I wanted to go straight to the dungeon, but it's already 18 pages! Bob and I decided that I'd just start in the next chapter. Again, I won't blame Assassin's Creed…Blue Dragon…Phantom Hourglass(I beat it! Yay!)…Christmas or guys from my ship for the lateness of this chapter.

I blame Link.

I actually had this chapter planned out not long after I finished Arduous. That night I couldn't sleep and stayed up to two in the morning going through the entire thing. However, Link made it extremely difficult to write the entire first half. Once I got to the Gorons, it was smooth sailing.

I shouldn't be brining anyone else back to life. I just needed a way to have the red potions. So Tris returned!

Please leave a review and tell me what y'all thought about this chapter! Readers help write chapters with their input. Great motivation at the very least and lets me know you could care less if Link talks at this point at the most.

Flamers are even welcome! It's cold here in Denver….


	8. World's Flesh

Link walked down the dark corridor, the mine map folded and tucked into his belt, shield and sword at the ready. The steady flicker from the torches lit the way and the kit was settled on his right shoulder. The metal claws no longer pricked his skin, since an unexpectedly light hauberk with a fine blue sheen was one of the gifts from Darmon. The mail barely peeked from beneath the tunics sleeves, hem and collar.

A metal shield decorated with the Narein shield of arms (wings cupped around crossed bloody staff and blade) was heavy, but far more durable than the wood one Viscen had supplied. Reddish-green dodongo scaled gauntlets covered his forearms completely, but sadly he'd had to leave behind the bracers. The lock picks were safely tucked into a pouch.

Link declined the headgear.

"They're shtill there." Reno breathed into the long ear. They were far from the typical range of hearing, but the kit was far from normal. The thief slowed down his pace, tilting his head slightly towards the fox, showing his interest and silently appealing for the kit to continue.**"Arre you sshure we should allow him to go?"**

Link blinked, amused that Reno mimicked the guard's voice so well. All the boy had to do was work out that lisp and he'd be perfect.

"**I think we dissscussed thish."** There was a whisper of exhaustion, almost hopelessness touching in the repeated statement. **"We prepared him besht we could. We jusht wait, now."**

"**How long?" **The watchman asked.

"**Tomorrow afffternoon." **Darmon sighed. **"Then we'll block all zeee openingsh."**

"**And Shad?"**

"**We'll jusht have to tell Vishen that he hash ta find a new bed warmer. He took a chansh shending the boy here in any cashe."**

The thief grimaced and fought the urge to sigh. It was troubling to be associated with the watchman. Charging back and denying would be revealing Reno's keen hearing. All other options stripped from him, Link was reduced to an eye twitch.

"Thanks for translating all of it, but I don't think I needed that last bit." His grin more of a grimace as he ground the words around clenched teeth. "If you made that last part up because I'm wearing a dress…I'm gonna hurt you."

"At leasht ya undershtand _why_ they shaid it." The redhead remarked with a smirk. "Maybe if ya kick hizz asssh, no one would think yer bedden' him."

The teen growled at the suggestion, his body still sore from the last spar with the old man. If his hands hadn't been full, he'd have poked the insolent punk. "Sou, sou. I'll get right on that. I cain' believe I didn' think of it sooner!"

"Why didja lie about yer name?" Reno asked after a moment, tails brushing the teen's back.

"Meh." The teen shrugged a little helplessly. "Don' want my reputation ta follow me. That and Viscen probably mentioned that a runaway named Mikau most likely fleeced 'em, so I couldn't say that. Not like blue eyes an' blonde hair is all that uncommon."

A warm metal paw poked his cheek lightly. "What if they find out?"

"Ma-na." White teeth flashed in a mischievous grin. "With any luck, I won' see half these guys without dying my hair first."

"I wonder when they'll get tha train goin' agin." The fox commented after a beat.

"Not anytime soon. I heard Errol mentionin' it ta tha guards." Link yawned a little, thinking how easier it would have been to get a ride up the mountain instead of trekking up it. "How taboo would it be if something were simple, anyway? 'Sides, the Lower Levels will be kicked outta the station when it is."

Reno nodded, remaining quiet as they continued deeper into the shaft. It was hard to contain his excitement, finally doing a job with Link. He had to fight the urge to fidget and chatter to hide his nervousness. Listening to the fights the young man had encountered daunted the boy only a small bit. Viscen seemed content with Link's fighting style, so the kit only worried that he would be more of a hindrance than help when the time came.

"Do you shmell that?" The fox asked suddenly. Link shook his head. "Shmells like oil…"

"Could it be the torches?"

"Nah. Not tha shame." The kit informed the teen as he braced his paw on the blonde head so he could look around.

The air steadily grew dryer, heat drying their skin. Link winced as a spark arched between the soft fur and his ear. The teen was actually in mid-curse when he had the sudden urge to stop. His chest felt tight with suspicion.

Nothing beyond the steady hush of flames met the long ears. He knelt, sheathing his blade to free his left hand. The ground looked wrong, though he could exactly pin point why. He brushed his fingers over loose grit, the corners of his lips turning down. _Maybe a pit, but I don't have much experience with traps like this…weird…it feels a little sticky…_

"Behind you!" Reno shrieked.

The thief pivoted and rose at the same time, leaping back from the man-sized spider that lunged towards him. A metallic chattering crowded the passage, blade-like legs flailing at the thief. He landed a few feet away, stomach lurching as he felt the ground give beneath his boots.

_That answers that…_His mind produced bitterly as he fell through the well-concealed hole. Luckily, his body hadn't been napping like his mind, and it twisted around till the shield was braced beneath his knees. He wanted to crush or forestall whatever unpleasant end awaited him. Reno clung to the mail and tunic; any sounds from the fox were snatched away before it could make the short distance to his ears.

The shield landed hard, jarring the thief and rider. There was only a brief pause before the shield turned into a makeshift sled, tilting over the edge it had precariously landed on and down the sixty-degree slope.

Hot air rushed past them, sparks flickering the their wake. The scraping hiss twined with their breathless yells of fear, eyes wide as if to pierce through the rushing darkness only broken by yellow bursts from the shield. Orange light bloomed far ahead, steadily gaining size and intensity as they streaked towards it.

They exploded from the shaft and into choking heat. Lava roiled in thick, glowing waves beneath them. Black paths and platforms were scattered about the area with no clear connection. Of course, the reluctant teen didn't give much thought on how to escape as of yet. He was more concerned on where he was going to land.

His legs were slightly bent, arms over his head and the shield still clutched in his panicked grip. There was a corner of his mind spared for the kit's safety since he couldn't feel Reno clamped on his shoulder anymore. The black-pitted surface of a rock sped towards him at an alarming speed.

_Cripes! I don't think I'll survive the damned landing! I'll break my damn legs and be stuck here till I cook!_ Link concluded, feeling the overwhelming urge to throw up. His stomach surged and fluttered, muscles tensing for the anticipated impact.

He carefully aimed his feet, relaxing at the last moment as his boot heels ground against the rough rock. He rolled forward to the balls of his feet, curling under to tumble around to his feet once more. Regrettably, it was the edge and the forward momentum of his landing made it impossible for him to stop completely.

"GRRAAAAHHH!" The teen allowed his body to launch over the impressive gap between rocks, giddy with hope and fear.

His boot caught the edge of the rock. White teeth clenched in concentration as the thief ran on pure instinct, long arms pin wheeled, the extra weight of the shield helping to pull him to safety. He fell forward, skidding on his stomach and scrapping any exposed skin. He groaned as the pains caught up, the abased flesh stinging in the merciless heat. His tearing blue eyes opened slowly, focusing on the hulking object just a finger length from his nose.

"RAAH!" Link shoved up and away, boots scuffing the ground until his fingers found the edge.

The wide empty sockets of a dead Goron were directed toward him, the bottom half of the body ripped away. The innards, the thief could only assume, had probably been gouged and whatever had dined upon the Goron had left the shell behind like an empty sweet packet.

A soft thud at his side caused the teen to flinch away, eyes jerking to see Reno had indeed made it. The tails flicked about his form, the soft fur gaining an orange cast from the lava light. The violet eyes turned up, flicking back and forth between the Goron and the thief.

"We faired better than him." The fox quipped and Link couldn't stop the nervous laughter from bubbling free.

The thief leaned back on his palms, staring up at the ceiling. Shards of precious gems sprouted through the rock, their original colors unintelligible in the strong glow. The molten rock thirty to forty feet below.

"How did I not break my legs?" He murmured to the air, brow furrowed. He rotated his jaw, popping his ears in the process. He could feel pressure all around him, constricting his lungs, but not to the point of discomfort. "How the hell are we gonna get out of here?"

"There're doorz along tha wall." Reno pointed out, tails flopping lazily on either side of his body. His breathing had sped up along with the lanky teen's, tongue lolling out to relieve some of the heat he felt. The taste and smell of sulfur was heavy in the air, burped from the magma.

"Yeah, but there's no path to them and we're in the middle of the damn melting pot." The lanky male stood, dusting off his seat idly as he paced the rock thoughtfully, trying to put the heat from his mind. _I'm bringing water next time! Fuck, it's hot! _"We did our job, in any case. We know what happened to the Gorons. I don't think the spiders got them. Looks like they probably fell down the same traps…there's holes all over the ceiling."

"Twenty-eight bodiez." The fox added, keeping pace by the teen's boots. He was feeling mildly discomforted by his metal bits being in such high heat. The fox hoped that the teen would discover a way to get them shielded from it soon. "Two are shtill misshing."

"Glad someone got a better pass-down than I." The teen muttered as he wiped the sweat beading his forehead thoughtfully.

"Heard it when we were shtill waiting." The kit admitted and Link shot a distracted grin down at the Unknown.

"Aren't you useful?" The teen teased, eyes flicking over the lumpy corpses sprawled on the islands. "Whoever did this is a messy eater. Are you sure some of the bodies couldn't have fallen into the soup?"

"Coulda…but it looksh like they were held down." The black nose twitched as it took in the scent from the dead rock man, sorting it from the gases that clung to the air. "Hey…look!"

The thief turned and felt his eyes widen at the fox pawing at a strange metal contraption still on the Goron's hand. He pulled off the glove-like device, not considering the fact he'd just moved up from sneak thief to grave robbery. Not that he would think twice about doing it over. The Goron wasn't going to use it anymore so why shouldn't he?

"Heeeh…I wonder if this is a weapon?" The lanky teen smiled, looking over the claws clamped together protruding from the top. He slipped his hand in, wrapping his fingers around the thick bar. His digits brushed against two buttons and his thumb against a trigger. "I wonder if the buttons makes the claws extend…." He raised his arm, squeezing the trigger and buttons thoughtfully.

A sharp click sounded over the constant boiling gurgle, the claw snapping open and launching from the cuff in a furious rattle of chains in its wake. Link was too shocked to react; even when the claw gripped onto one of the jewels embedded in the ceiling and began to reel him in. Of course, the still growing boy didn't have much in the way of weight and shot through the air towards the ceiling at an alarming speed.

"GAAAAAAH!!!!" The thief fought the urge let go, the thought of taking a dip in the high temperatures below him were less than ideal. Wind whistled past his ears and his eyes leaked tears from the heated air streaming against them.

The teen slammed to a stop, arm screaming in protest as it was nearly wrenched from his socket. He growl-moaned in pain, body swaying slightly from the force. He looked down, seeing the bubbling magma from between his boots, the image wavering in the heated air. He now hung eighty or so feet in the air and his options had most certainly changed, but not for the better. The blue eyes turned upwards again, giving the clawshot a look of pure malice.

"The shit I find never comes with **INSTRUCTIONS**!" He roared, chest heaving. "How the hell am I supposed to get down!?"

He shifted a finger off the second button, praying he wouldn't open the claw. He began to descend…rapidly. He gripped the button once more…and flew back up until the base of the claw found home. His head met the rock overhead and stars burst before his vision.

"WHORE IN CHURCH!" He cursed, almost losing his grip. Breath hissing between his teeth, he let the button go again. Downward he went and he felt his stomach jump to his throat with apprehension. Instead of grabbing the button, he shifted his finger off the last button and came to a merciful stop twenty feet down.

The next part was tricky, since he had to swing in order reach the next rock island. His long legs pumped carefully, waiting until he was sure of the distance before releasing the trigger. Unfortunately, the stone he was clinging to didn't have that kind of patience was ripped from the rock it was imbedded in. Luckily, Link was at the highest point of his swing and managed to land on the small island.

The claw, having no more resistance to keep it extended, cinched back towards the gauntlet to rid itself of the sudden slack. The jewel was still caught in the claw's grasp and met sharply against the tender spot on the blonde head as it sped past. The teen fell to his knees, grasping his aching skull with his free hand and whimpering.

"This is that karma bullshit people keep talking about…" He groaned miserably, waiting out the throbbing till he started looking around. Another Goron corpse was just a few feet away, a clawshot resting on its arm. Link scrambled up, wincing at the residue aches as he filched it and put it on his free hand.

"OOIII! LINK!"

The teen turned and snickered at the sight of the fox-Unknown settled on his haunches and waving his forepaws as if he were trying to dig air. He waved with a clawshot-equipped arm. "Gimme a sec!"

_So the trigger opens and closes the claw…all three ejects it and pulls if it catches something…The second button is down and the third up. It'll auto-reel if it's not attached to something. Huunnnhhh. I can use this._ The thief smiled and aimed the clawshot, working his way across the gap between him and Reno as if he were using monkey bars.

"I could probably get my own circus act with this."

--------

Reno had to ride inside of the Link's tunic front when he used the clawshot. Convincing the kit to get in there had been the biggest issue. After Link began to use the clawshots to sling across the gap, Reno had conceded that it would be unwise to ride any other way.

The first door they tried was locked. Luckily the second door opened to reveal a long passage, giving them quite a bit of respite from the overwhelming heat. It was almost a shock to be in the cooler air. There weren't any torches, but the ceiling glowed red and cast weak light on the pair in stark relief.

"Thish is creepy." Reno pointed out from his perch. "Where ish tha light coming from?"

"Hell if I know." The lanky boy admitted, eyes sweeping the overhead. The clawshots hung on his belt in a latch and hook he'd acquired from the dead Goron's utility belts. Jamming his hand into them would free them and holstering them was just as simple. They added to the jingle that already sounded with each step, making the thief in him cringe. "Does this place feel weird to you?"

"The rocksh are glowing." The fox replied in a bland tone. Link made an aggravated noise, that not being what he was asking. "There're two up ahead."

"Yes, I kin see that. I'm talken'— nevermind. Cripes." The long-eared thief scowled, placing his hands on the door and giving it a shove so it would open. The teen paused, not liking the looks of the large, empty chamber. He could sense the fox's curiosity at his sudden hesitation and sighed in defeat. _What other damned choice do I have? Wind and Rain…I'm not doing this shit anymore. _

Ignoring his instincts screaming against it, he walked into the chamber and heard the expected slam as the door shut tightly behind him. Reno started, turning sharply even as he heard the earth shift and shudder as something dragged itself from the depths.

"Reno. Get off." Link ordered, drawing his blade with a grating hiss. The kit did as he was ordered, staring wide-eyed at the four mechanical Unknowns that trudged towards the teen on all fours.

They had the appearance of monkeys; their metallic skeleton had the appearance of melted wax. The Unknowns would have stood shoulder to shoulder with a medium sized dog. Red orbs burned hard in their sockets, teeth jagged as they were revealed in their challenge screech. They launched forward, gears and pulleys crying out.

Link bashed the first one away with his shield, boots grinding as he shifted into a crouch and slid between the opening of the center two. He groaned and swept his blade up to sever the fuel lines along the belly of one as he passed.

The injured one crashed to the ground, the other three not lingering on their companion's dilemma before surging at the teen once more. Link back flipped once, landing in a crouch and driving his sword into the socket of one Unknown. Metal squealed in protest, colorful sparks spraying from the blade until it ripped through the back of the skull. He turned hard, slinging the blade and dead Unknown until it slid off and bashed into its companion that was in mid-flight.

The torn Unknown burst into ashes before it hit the ground, but Link didn't even notice as he pinned the first one to the ground with his sword. He twisted it savagely, destroying the internal power supply with barely a whisper of strength. He left the blade buried in the rock, the pinned monkey ashing as he twisted with the boomerang in his grip to face the last.

He tossed it with a grunt, bashing the Unknown so hard across the skull that it snapped out of its charge completely and rolled across the ground. Link caught the weapon and re-holstered it before he jammed his left hand into the clawshot, pulling it free and launching it as the enpi mashi struggled to orient itself. The claw latched onto the spine, yanking it towards the thief. Link raised his shield and braced it with his foot just before the Unknown slammed into the steel with satisfying crunch and the spine warping when it was wrenched from the claws grip.

It burst into ashes before it hit the ground, the lanky teen dropping the clawshot and yanking his sword free; rushing the last enpi mashi that struggled despite its fluids spurting all over the hard rock. It lifted its head, howling defiantly even as Link severed the skull from its neck and sent it flying across the chamber.

"Fire and ishe, Link! That wuz shooo cool!" Reno cried, bounding foreward to dance around the blushing teen. The lanky boy scratched the back of his neck nervously, clearing his throat.

"I guess." He allowed, hearing the doors groan and grind as they opened. He sheathed his sword and replaced the shield over it. He hooked the clawshot back onto his belt and gestured towards the open door with his head. "Let's get going."

---------

It didn't take much longer for Reno to understand why Link has asked his thoughts on the strangeness of the dungeon. The way it trapped them and the various puzzles he had to solve were positively uncanny. The maze-like dungeon was frustrating even the fox since they had to return the lava pit three times just to advance and explore the other parts. The thief made his displeasure known for having to light torches with only flint, time limits after hitting crystals or hitting switches in a specific order to open a door.

It wouldn't have been that bad if the keys could be used more than once. Glory to those who knew what happened to the bits of silver after Link unlocked a door. Reno figured that they were warped to another part of the dungeon to occupy another chest, waiting to be found again. Kind of like a magical hide and seek. Sadly, the teen he rode found no humor in his comments about the subject.

"Who designs these places? What kinda sick bastard goes through this much trouble?" The blue-eyed thief growled while he dove through a door before it slammed, the crystalline chime sounding behind him as the switch turned from yellow to red.

His long body slid on the dirt, slipping through before it slammed completely. Reno licked the new sets of abrasions on the teen's chin; the thief just laid on the ground and basking in relief.

"Let's go home. I don' wanna play this game anymore." He grumbled, laying a hand on the fox's back and closing his eyes.

"And missh thish fun?" The kit teased, tongue lolling as he panted a laugh.

The long-eared young man cracked an eye open to reveal a sliver of blue, lips tugged down in a grimace. Reno's violet eyes were snapping with good humor, plume tails raising clouds of reddish dust as they beat the ground. He closed his eye again and sighed in defeat. "Yers is a happy nature."

The thief finally pushed off the ground, dusting off the front of his tunic as he inspected the new room. Soft crackling of flames and rustles announced the fire keese presence; their forms across the room on the ceiling, still unaware of the pair's existence. He tiredly pulled out his slingshot from the small of his back and a handful of rocks from the pouch.

_At least it isn't any more clockwork Unknowns. Where did they all come from? They aren't even mixed with anything alive._

He aimed and shot them down in rapid succession, glancing about the chamber as the ash settled onto the floor. He could see silver bars imprisoning a large chest across the way, the design and colors far more vivid then the ones previously encountered. He frowned; slipping the slingshot back into his belt, wondering what puzzle awaited him this time.

"Link…" Reno's voice cut through his thoughts, their distress making his brows jump together as he turned to see what was upsetting the boy. The fox was frozen in mid-stride, his flesh paw the only thing keeping him from falling on his face. "A little help here?"

The teen grinned and fished the wind-up key from his pouch. He knelt down and placed it in the hole in the kit's chest, turning it to wind the makeshift engine back to life. The thief paused, senses screaming before he could complete one turn. He scooped up the heave fox and rolled to the side as the ground shuddered. Link stopped in a crouch, winding the kit up as he took in the new arrival with wide eyes.

It was a robotic wolf; standing taller than the last one he fought by at least a hand, the casing matt black. Its scruff was plates of jagged armor fringing the large, wedged head. It moved with surprising grace, the body much the same as Reno's in design. Its head turned towards the teen, jaws opening to reveal saw-like teeth and emitting thick clouds of steam.

"Mercy…someone's been enhanced a bit…" He mumbled through numb lips.

"I'm sssenshing a theme with all theze machhinezz." Reno commented as he wiggled free. Link didn't get a chance to wind him up all the way, but he'd have enough movement left to run from the Unknown if it came to it.

The green clad teen was already moving, drawing his sword and donning his shield. The Wolfien thundered forward to meet him, growls rolling from it like thunder. It snapped its jaws at the lad, who deflected the attack with his shield. It sat back on its haunches, slamming a massive metal paw against the barrier, knocking the teen a few feet in the air to land hard on his left shoulder.

Link grunted in surprise and pain, rolling onto his back in time to see the Unknown flying towards him. He rolled out of the way, jumping to his feet as the heavy Wolfien landed hard in the space he'd just occupied.

"Link! He'z gotta pilot light! He'z gonna spit!" The fox yelled as the Wolfien jerked its head around. Jagged lines raced over the metal casing towards the skull, the yellow eyes flashing orange before a jet of flame erupted from its throat.

Link didn't waste any time scurrying out of the way. He ran from the fire, feeling his body lag under the wounds he'd gained previously. The thief could tell he was failing, body protesting as he tried to force more speed to keep a few paces ahead.

He sheathed his blade, grabbing a flask of potion and flicking the top open and sucking down the scarlet, scolding liquid as quickly as he could without chocking. The warm spread through his limbs, the cramping muscles loosening to a pleasant stretch and the burden melting from his limbs. Fatigue was burned from his mind, thoughts tumbling at a free flow and his focus sharpening.

"Hiz hide'z too touph! Go for the opening!" Reno yelled. The Wolfien stopped spewing fire, growling roars spilling from his throat as he turned on the smaller Unknown. The redhead bristled, growling just as fiercely as his ears laid back.

Link placed his shield on his back, jamming his right hand into the clawshot to free it from his belt. His trembling body was wash with energy and he couldn't help but bare his teeth in a half grimace, half grin. He thumbed the trigger as he took aim, the world slowing down to a crawl as the Wolfien turned his tail towards him, determined to attack Reno. He cocked back his sword arm, the blade parallel with the ground and even with his shoulder. The other two buttons squeezed, the claw surged forward and flew towards the metal appendage.

It gripped onto it roughly and jerked the teen off his feet to reel him into the heavier Unknown. Link kept the sword level, eyes squinted to avoid most of the rushing air. The aggressive beast felt the jerk and whirled around, unknowingly dragging the thief closer even faster. The world resumed its normal speed as the blue eyes stared down the open jowls at the blue pilot light playing at the back of the throat behind the jagged teeth.

Too late, the Wolfien guessed the filcher's intentions. The blade cut through the air easily and as it passed the teeth, Link extended his arm fully to give it more momentum as it severed the small flame and punched through the delicate machinery at the back of the throat. The cross guard caught at the corner of the great jaws and jamming there.

The long-eared boy released the trigger, the claw opening and returning as he shoved away as the Unknown began to thrash. He stood up, hooking the clawshot on his belt and grabbed the shield from his back, grabbing it on both sides on the widest part. It didn't take long for the Wolfien to figure out that how to remove the sword. It settled onto its stomach and braced its paws against the cross guard and steadily drew it from its throat.

Link stepped up behind it, calculating when the Unknown had most of the blade out. He aimed the pointed bottom of the shield just beneath the neck ridges fold. Teeth bared, he sharply jammed it into the weak joint. The Unknown started, but Link jumped all his weight onto the top; as if he were using a shovel and snipping through the fragile innards that the blade hadn't severed until it met the bottom plating.

The Unknown stilled before bursting into ash. The thief lost his footing and fell on to the powdery remains, having the sense to avoid landing on the shield. He felt drained mentally and physically for a moment, closing his weary eyes and breathing hard.

Reno watched him for a moment, his fur slowly laying flat once more. The soft triangles twitched when the purr of oiled steel slipping through stone teased his senses. He couldn't believe that Link had handled it as well as he did. It'd been like watching a dance, well choreographed and executed flawlessly. He could smell the blood from the cuts on his fingers, Tris's potion still tainting his breath, and the nervous sweat coating his grimy skin.

"Link?" The fox padded over, the key still stuck in his chest. A blue eye opened lazily and slowly focused on the kit. The teen groaned and pushed his body up, finding his feet and beginning the tedious task of dusting off.

"Cripes. Why do I always hafta lay in the damn ash?" He complained to no one in particular, squinting as he noticed that the elaborate chest was now accessible. The cobalt gaze flicked back to the fox. "Are you ok?"

"Fine. He only got a chanssse ta yell." The kit assured him.

"What'd he say?" The filcher asked curiously.

"That I wuz a fffilthy traitor and he'd have my head fer hiz mashter."

"That's not much in the way of creative. We sure showed him, didn't we?" He trudged over to the chest, trying to lift the lid. "Damnation!"

"What?" Reno settled onto his haunches, watching the teen try to pry the top off with no success. "Maybe we hafffta find a key?"

"Of course I need a curst key!" Link kicked the chest furiously and fought the urge to tear his hair out. He glared at the chest, blowing heavily from his nose before kneeling before it and removing his picks. "Fuck the key!"

"Link." The redhead stated tiredly, body drooping tiredly. He'd already tried picking the locks and failed miserably.

The determined boy ignored him, pressing his ear near the lock and closing his eyes. Inserting a pick and carefully moving the pins one at a time, he listened for each click before moving on. He'd judged the lock to have four pins and the design wasn't too difficult, unlike the others that'd been near impossible to even find the pins. All pins were held up and the plug moved freely, clicking unlocked.

"A whore in church!" The fox used Link's favorite curse and trotted forward. "Ya got it opened!"

The lock-pick gave a rakish grin and opened the lid and looking into the chest. His smile died just as fast as it'd been born, the corner of his eye twitching.

"What iz it?"

The thief picked up the item from the gravel bed and showed it to the four-tailed fox. The large purple eyes blinked before he chortled tiredly and shook his wedged head.

"A key." The blonde sighed, falling onto his ass and wondering why he bothered to begin with.

"It'z different, though." The fox pointed out. "Bigger and gold-looken."

The filcher rested a gloved hand on the furry head to forestall anymore talking. The key was heavy, embedded with an unnaturally red stone and framed by curving horns. Both Link and Reno could tell that it couldn't be a ruby, since they're usually of a pinker cast than the rich bloody hue. The blasted thing had to be six inches long and though it was gold color, it was too dense to be pure. The mudlark suspected that the metal had been treated to gain the yellow finish.

"Maybe this'll open the door that leads out of here." The teen said aloud, but he didn't sound as if he believed it for a moment. He'd only had limited experience, but it'd taught him that nothing was that simple when running an errand for the Sages.

----------

The tired pair found the lock belonging to the key an hour and two potions later. Just as the coltish teen had been afraid of, it didn't give way to a route to the outside.

It revealed a living Goron just on the other side of a sheet of red film, a gold scimitar outlined in gold in the middle.

The black rock shuddered beneath their feet, a deep rumbling causing the air to tremble and their bodies to ache. Link lost his balance, the ground pitching him through the scarlet glow, which disappeared upon contact, and against the Goron. The door slammed shut with a resounding thud as soon as his body passed it, throwing them into darkness before their eyes adjusted to the dim red light emitting from the overhead. The quake continued for a few more breathes before the earth settled once more.

Link pushed off from the Goron, slamming his forearms and fists against the closed door in aggravation. A scowl decorated his long features as he took in their current predicament.

"Perfect. Curst typical." He gave it a final kick to ensure his dissatisfaction was known and turned back to the Goron, a sigh in his voice. "I'm Shad. I'll be your madcap on this rescue. I don't suppose the other missing Goron is alive?"

The pause that followed answered the question and Link felt his face soften just a touch. Just the hint of pity had the Goron putting up his hackles and he straightened.

"No, he's not." The Goron replied dryly as he massaged his temple and prayed for patience. "Corbin."

"Rude." Reno introduced himself, his own tolerance falling low. Link couldn't fight the smile that teased his lips and scratched the jaw affectionately before turning back to Corbin.

The trio inspected on another, keen eyes taking in the details. The Goron was short, barely taller than Link, but just as thick as his brethren. He had rough steel patches along his spine and arms. The long, spiked wiry threads had a dark navy sheen to them and angled over the round silver eyes. He looked worse for wear, mustard colored blood smeared over his rocky skin. The thief couldn't help but notice that he had a pair of clawshots on his belt.

Link didn't look much better. The exposed skin of his throat and jaw were scrapped bloody, heavy circles were under his too-wide azure eyes. His wild, oily hair was now grayish-brown from the ash, the mail peeking from the rips and tears in the canvas tunic. He was beaten and battered, the exposed fingers spattered with blood and machine oil. He held his shield, which should have all of the design scrapped off, but didn't for some reason unknown to the teen. The duel clawshots didn't go unnoticed to the Goron, nor the make of his gauntlets and mail.

Not to mention there was an Unknown settled on his right shoulder.

"It wouldn't be too much to hope that you're here to lead us out of this hell pit?" Link asked after a moment, digging his fingers through the dirty locks and combing them into more disarray.

"That's promising. You must be the rescue party." The Goron replied mildly, hiding the fact that what little hope he had of surviving just plummeted to zero. The adolescent couldn't help but wonder why he even bothered to try to escape the inevitable. "An Unknown and a human."

"Wind and rain. I shwear if I hafffta deal with both yer bad moodz, I'm gonna tosshh my lot in with Ganondorff. He cain' bitch nearly ashh much ashh y'all." Reno scowled, tails beating the lanky thief's back in annoyance. He wouldn't admit his own fear; he could hear the deep-throated murmuring of an Unknown. Whatever the Unknown was, it was big and powerful, commanding the Unknowns inhabiting the dungeon to obey its commands…including him. It took most of his concentration to not fall under the compulsion, violet eyes dark slits and profile stiff.

"There's somethin' nasty back that way, huh?"

"You're correct in your assumption. You've done this before?" Corbin asked sarcastically. The teen wasn't even paying attention to the obviously disturbed Goron.

"Cripes. Like that should matter. This damned pit doesn' shut me in 'less there's something hellish it wants me ta kill." Link muttered darkly, his body beginning to tremble with barely restrained terror and dread. He didn't want to fight whatever lay at the end of the darkened passageway. One that could break a Goron's rock hard skin and keep it cowering in the darkness.

He'd known, deep down, that it'd happen no matter what Errol said. He'd ignored the signs from Darmon and the other Gorons, disregarding his intuition. Nothing was simple in a mad world twisted by magic loosed by his own hand.

The air was suddenly too heavy to drag into his aching lungs, his blood pounding too hard through his sore head. The teen tried his best to contain the panic and resentment welling from the depths. The teen grabbed his last potion and chugged half, wincing as the bitter liquid cloaked his tongue and mouth. He replaced it as he stepped past Corbin, expression set as he unsheathed his blade.

Reno could feel the resolve in the teen, finding comfort and strength in it. He sat up a little straighter, trying to still his thoughts as the calling roaring between his ears. If Link continued to fight against the Dark King, even if it wasn't exactly his intention as of yet, the fox would follow.

"Where the hell are you going?" Corbin asked dubiously.

"What tha hell does it look it?" Link tossed back, eyes locking onto the silver eyes over his shoulder. "I'm getten' outta here. The only place I haven' been in this foredoomed abyss is down there…" he pointed with his sword. "I'm not gonna just cook here. I'll go down fighting. I know tha exit's somewhere 'round there."

The resolute teen trudged forward, glancing back only when he heard the heavy footsteps as Corbin caught up with him. "Oh? Yer comen' then?"

"It's just a little shaming when a weak human is willing to fight _that._" The Goron replied, blunt fingers rubbing a wound on his bicep lightly.

The thief slowed to a stop. "Ya've seen it?"

"Unfortunately."

"What's it look like? How'd ya get away?" The coltish thief asked with a slight frown. He suspected, but he would wait to have them confirmed.

"It's a mole." Corbin admitted, ignoring the burst of amusement at the disbelieving expression the human threw at him. "It must have been caught by a cat in the middle of the Shift. It has a mole's front…the massive paws for digging and the head. The back part is a cat's haunches, tail and all. The claws, teeth are steel. There's a metal mask over most of the face, so it makes it damn near impossible to take out the eyes."

"How big?"

"On all fours…larger than a horse by a couple of hands. Standing…hell if I know. A lot taller. It's not fast, but it doesn't have to be. Its legs eat up a lot of distance." Corbin finished, not bothering to answer the other question of his escape.

The thief leaned against the rough stone; shield and sword limp in his grip as the cobalt eyes became distant. The fox and Goron remained respectfully silent, their attention towards the distant snuffing noises in the actual chamber.

"Ok. I think I gotta plan." The thief spoke up, causing them both to jump in surprise. "That is, if yer game Corbin."

The Goron smirked. "Let's hear what the pink one has to say."

The teen grinned and told them his plan. Reno immediately agreed to his part, the Goron not so anxious and staring at the shorter male.

"I guess asking if you're serious is pretty pointless…" Silence was the only answer and he groaned. "You're cracked. Better get on with it, then. It'll be done with…soon."

-----------

The trio walked around the corridor's bend, all quiet and stewing on their own thoughts. Link wasn't sure if his plan would work. It was simple, but the simplicity would only carry it so far. Strategies had a nasty reputation for never surviving the first few beats of battle. His mind was still riding the after-effects of the potion, chasing possibilities endlessly and planning for the unavoidability of some piece falling apart or varying.

—"Schemes are funny things, Hero. If ya miss an element, its life is even shorter. The more people ya lead, tha more difficult it gets ta keep tha facts straight. Are they good at thinkin' on their feet? Are they mindless grunts? Do they think they should be in charge?" Gramps lectured as he cupped his tea to warm his hands. The tawny orbs were locked on the green liquid.

"Ya act like I'm gonna lead a task force one day." Link pointed out, azure gaze flickering from the sewing in his lap to the older man.

"Ya won' be filchen' forever, Hero. Trust me. Tha time fer our last job iz soon. No more dancin' wi' gillies either." A smile touched the aged, cracked lips for a moment. Link only snorted.—

_I can only hope that Corbin is up to listening to orders. He made it away once, so I don't see why he couldn't do it again. Mahn-ya. Too late._

They were at the opening to the chamber, the Unknown in the middle crouched over something and making slurping, growling noises. A nervous twitter ran through his stomach, his nerve beginning to falter.

_Do or die!_

The thief ran into the open just as the Debaneko caught their scent. His clawshot was over his right hand and it didn't take long to find his first flaw. One, the rock ground was scarred with deep trenches from the Unknown's claws. It made the terrain chancy and he spent more time watching his footing and jumping the gouges than the thundering Unknown.

_Second screw up, the gems don't scatter over the overhead…they're spread out. Crap. That means they're going ta hafta lead the bastard till it's right under me—FUCK! _The filcher's boot caught in the lip of a furrow, causing him to fly forward from the momentum. He threw himself onto his back, watching the beast gallop ungracefully towards him. A crest, much like the one Link discovered back in Kakariko, was embedded in the breastplate of the beast. The metal platting has the appearance of a champron, not protecting the eyes but making it difficult to reach. _He wuz right about the running…_

The Unknown lowered its head, a hissing screech grating from the throat and bloody incisors bared. It shuddered and flew sideways, as if it'd been blindsided by a rig. The thief didn't hesitate, scrambling up as Reno flitting from ridge to ridge of the trenches towards the sprawled Debaneko.

Link aimed the clawshot and cursed, realizing that the ceiling was too high. He equipped the left and started running, making better time than the fox in his panic. The Unknown was still struggling to his feet, Corbin rolling away at a high speed to gain more power if he was needed again. The teen set sights on the facemask, ready for the whiplash as he was jerked from his still moving feet and slammed into the beast's forehead.

Debaneko screeched, rearing up in shock. The teen's stomach didn't bother following, staying behind with his common sense on the ground where it was safe. Link allowed the Unknown to throw him, aiming even as he flew through the air.

Click and release, the claw surged forward and flew true to latch onto a jewel as he soared past. His body followed grudgingly when the chain recoiled, dislocating his shoulder. White light burst in his vision, followed by darkness as pain chased its heels. Link would have screamed, but he actually blacked out for the space of a few heartbeats until the gauntlet slammed into the base of the claw and jarred him awake with a fresh wave of pain.

Sweat dripped from his sodden bangs and temple. He panted hard as he hung from his hurt shoulder. He felt feverish for a moment, his body far too hot…like he was burning alive. Sapphire eyes flicked along the chamber, looking for distraction as his mind tried to cope.

Reno was facing off with the Unknown; slowly backing away as they traded insults in whatever tongue they spoke in. Corbin was lying on his stomach, arms extended and it was impossible to tell if he was still alive.

His eyes burned, the thief blinking rapidly to clear the sweat that was dripping into them. He carefully holstered the clawshot and reached up with his left arm, trying not to move enough to jostle his right shoulder. Unsheathing his sword, the teen counted his unsteady breathes as the fox led Debaneko beneath him.

The larger Unknown had obviously lost patience with the kit and Link watched the muscles tense as he prepared to leap. The injured thief bit back a sob, not knowing how much longer he could stand it. _He's close! So fucken' close! Just a few more paces! Come on! Come on! Come ON! COME ON!_

Debaneko went into his leap, but only made it airborne before it stopped short and flopped back to the hard earth. It yowled and screeched, head snapping back just as the teen's gaze followed the same direction to confirm.

Corbin had his feet braced on the wall of a gouge, one clawshot latched onto a wall and the other on the Unknown's long tail. The Goron was slowly reeling the Unknown towards him, the creature stubbornly digging his claws into the ground and fighting the pull.

A more perfect chance wouldn't arrive anytime soon and Link focused his will on his dislocated arm. It was the hardest and most excruciating feat he'd ever done. His body fought the order and his jaw groaned from the force as he focused all his might on those fingers and thumb.

It snapped open and Link was free-falling, blade pointed down in his left hand. His mouth hung open, eyes too wide as tears poured from them to be swept from the passing air. It was the longest five seconds of his life. He landed blade first, the point tearing through flesh and muscles along the base of the neck, scraping bone and coaxing a matching scream of pain from the Unknown. His feet were next, his right arm flopping down and causing him to pass out once more, body falling onto the sword hilt and forcing it deep until the cross guard met resistance.

The thief was thrown from the back and landed hard, air knocked from his lungs. Link rolled, braced his right shoulder against the ground and jammed his arm home. The relief was so intense he was tempted to swoon. The ground began to rumble, demanding the teen's attention. He scrambled to his feet, casting a glance back to see Debaneko thrashing around wildly as it tried to remove the weapon nestled from its reach.

The thick, shovel-like claws ripped into its owner's flesh, leaving deep tears in the shoulders and throat. It reared up and a bronze projectile slammed into its chest and threw it onto its back. Link charged towards the Unknown, breathing hard but thinking clearly through the residue pain.

Reno was already there, riding the struggling head until it burrowed beneath the champron. Green tinted scarlet fluid sprayed from the eyeholes, the beast rolling onto its stomach to beat its head against the ground to try to rid itself of the fox.

Link leapt onto the creature's back, holstering the clawshot just before his fingers tangled into the thick hair. He scaled the body, panting and whimpering softly. The body bucked and shuddered under his feet. The spry teen didn't allow it to throw him, scrambling from the still buried blade.

He clutched onto the blood slick hilt, yanking it out and nearly losing his footing. It went to stand, but was jerked short, giving proof to Corbin's interference.

"KILL IT!" The Goron roared, the deep-throated bellow causing the teen's adrenaline to spike.

He straddled the spine with his knees, holding the sword with his left and bracing the blade with his right forearm to keep it straight as he drove it home. It ripped through the spinal cord and ground to a halt between two vertebrae. Link twisted the blade deftly, severing the neck from the back. Reno appeared over the top of the ridge of the mask, jumping and using the blonde head as a stepping-stone to escape the death throes.

Debaneko screamed, body going limp. Still alive, its terror fueled cries made the teen's teeth ache. He pulled the blade free with a slurping rasp and tumbled down. He ran to the still twitching head almost as long as his body and dragged his blade along the throat. Blood gushed, hot and sticky, all over the mindless teen. The swipe wasn't a clean cut, but a sawing hack since the edge was no longer as sharp as it started out. He slashed wildly, set on his task long after it became gratuitous.

His body hurt, mind numb, soul crying as he hacked away with his good arm. He didn't even realize that the continuous, senseless scream he heard came from his own throat till he recognized the pain. The sword slipped from his grip, clanking loudly to the ground. He panted harshly, staring down at it and trying to focus his degrading vision. Everything seemed to double and shiver before him. He fell to his knees in the gore, body tired.

"Shad?" Corbin ventured softly, sounding unsure.

"I shoulda ashked ya 'bou' tha…ta…ta…grounds…Shhhhtupid missshhhtake…" He mumbled distantly. The Goron slowly picked up the sword and sheathed it. When Link didn't respond, he pulled the teen up by his left arm and draped it over his shoulder.

"I think…that's the least of our worries."

"Get…tha…cresssshhht…" The tired teen muttered, right arm reaching for the gory piece despite the pain. He winced at the twinges racing up the arm and fumbled at his belt until he found the last bit of potion. He suckled from the flask gratefully and felt some use flow back into his body. "Damnation, that hurt…"

Corbin's eyes shot to the teen, a little surprised as he tugged free of the rock man's grip. He watched the coltish swordsman unsheathe his sword and wedged the tip in the small crack between the breastplate and crest. It popped out with little effort on the human's part, which tucked it inside the front of his tunic with a satisfied grunt. The cerulean orbs had a feverish cast as they met silver, the sword raised in a mock salute.

"How 'bout we get outta here? I dun think I can keep it up fer much longer." The teen admitted. He wiped the blade and sheathed it as the remains of the Debaneko began to burn with jade edged ruby flame until it was nothing but ash.

"Oiii-ya." Reno sounded, padding up the to the teen and tugging at the leather trousers lightly for attention. Link paused and glanced down, kneeling to scratch the soft ears.

"Ya did good, R…Rude." The thief hesitated a little at the fake name, his voice slurring.

"Shhad…Lookit!" The fox turned and scampered back to the mound of ash, assuming a pointer position at a glowing circle of blue light. It shone brightly through the thick coating, the remains slowly swirling and settling away.

"Looks like our way out." Corbin pointed out, taking long strides to the circle. "It's a magic portal."

"I wuz thinken' there wuzn' a way asides from tha enterance." The thief mumbled, unsure of the Goron's assessment. "How would ya know 'bout that? You've used 'em before?"

"I don't think you've been swinging that sword all your many years." Corbin pointed out blandly, mussing his stiff spikes with blunt fingertips. "I just know it."

Link didn't reply, but understood. He was better at the sword and fighting in general, far better than before the Shift. Considering that he'd been out for five months and just recently started sparring again, his ability was phenomenal.

"Why'z it that magic makes all common sense null?" He grumbled, eliciting a chuckle from Corbin and Reno.

-----------

A/N: This has got to be my longest chapter, yet. I'm curious about what everyone thought of the fights. Too long? Too detailed? Not detailed enough? Too vague on descriptions?

I've really made a mess for myself, haven't I? I can't keep it simple, can I? Gotta go all the way. Hopefully I haven't started a trend with 10 page dungeons and betweeners…I'm sure y'all don't mind, but it takes longer to write. -.-;;;

I was wondering who would comment first. I know it's hard, but try not to equate it to modern day. - Religion isn't something that guides the men and women in Link's world; you'll notice the lack of much reference to God, churches, chapels and temples. Religion is a very private thing for these people and they don't flaunt or press it on others.

I think I chased off most of my readers with it. However, I did it to show a couple of things about Link: first, that he's emotionally vulnerable. Disasters, natural or man caused, alter people to one of two extremes: strengthening a person's spiritual beliefs or crushing them completely. Link's bitter and confused; there's a lot of survivors guilt boiling inside him and he's unsure on how to handle the stress. He was raised to take care of his Gramps and rely on no one. His choice isn't the right or wrong one, but it defiantly isn't healthy.

Two is his lack of faith expands to everyone but Reno and himself. He doesn't say that about Reno, but he confides with the boy about things he wouldn't with anyone else. This reaffirms the degree he's turned independent.

I'm not going to be posting a chapter for a long bit. I'm sorry, but due to the amount of thought that's going to have to go into the next eight chapters…yeah. We have what we want happening worked out, but I need to get all the details for each chapters down. After that, Bob and I will work on making sure that it moves smoothly.

Why wait so long? Because I'll probably need to go back and refine previous chapters in case Bob and I miss something (an example is in the Rat Chapter, I forgot to mention the crest at all. I felt a little foolish…-.-;;). That and we're having creative differences that are halting the progress of the current chapter. That shouldn't take too long to resolve…I'll work around it until we're able to agree on something.

No fear! We will get the story out! -

Please have patience with us!


	9. Vexation

Link woke up in the middle of the night, vaguely concerned on where exactly he was

_**Reading something. **_—Remembering something someone "said" or did.— _Thinking_ **Sensing something**

--------------

Link woke up in the middle of the night, vaguely concerned on where exactly he was. He could hear gentle, rhythmic breathing in the same room from one other person. There was the hush of the night just outside the walls. The air was cool, a glorious absence of sulfur confirming he was nowhere near the volcano depths. The area where he lay was far too soft to be his pallet at Kakariko. The thief sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the weight just on the left side of the blankets. His back complained, muscles stiff, sore and bruised. His right arm was tucked in a sling and it took him a moment to remember he'd dislocated it.

The azure eyes peered through the gloom, slowly adjusting enough for him to make out sparse furnishings. He was, to his shock, in a real four-poster bed. A shuttered window was over his head, a cool draft slipping through to caress his burned, raw skin lovingly.

His right arm throbbed as he pulled it from the sling but was easily pushed to the back of his mind. He wore a long shirt, the cotton soft against his skin. He plucked at the undyed fabric thoughtfully before casting about for his other clothing. His tunic and mail shirt were draped over the back of a chair. His trousers folded neatly in the seat, the rest of his gear set on top. His boots were in front of the chair, the sword hung by its belt on the chair and shield leaning against the back. 

"Cook meh shome…" Reno muttered from his feet. Link watched the boy, but the fox didn't stir except to tuck into a tighter ball. The teen gave a slight smile, arranging the blanket over the kit before slipping silently from the covers. 

The wooden floor was chilly under his bare feet, the rough wood teasing the tender soles. He tugged on the leather pants, noticing with mild irritation that the white leather was now a downy gray. The recently damaged right shoulder gave a twinge of protest with the sudden use. He tucked in the nightshirt and tugged on the boots without bothering with stockings. The thief buckled the straps soundlessly, standing up straight and stretching somewhat to warm his muscles. He slipped his right arm back into the sling. It wasn't really needed, but it could only help at this point due to his self-destructive tendency to disregard his injuries.

He wasn't leaving just yet, but he needed his bearings. His memory of stepping into that shimmering indigo light was hazy. They'd landed in front of Stalfos Treasure and Trust, he was sure. 

—Dawn was breaking over the horizon, colors vibrant amber in the thin air. The bank stood unchanged, constant and steady before them. It was silly, but Link drew from that deep-seated presence. Exhaustion was clouding his mind, but he could almost swear that the building exuded a strange sort of patience. He glanced over at the Goron beside him, a tired smile tugging at his lips. It was hard not to be pleased after escaping that mess.—

Link slipped soundlessly from the small room and into the living area. The dreaded silence that cloaked the mountain village pressed heavily against his long ears. It was a singing tone, oppressive and mocking as it jangled the thief's nerves. No living soul stirred in the space, no presence waited within the teen's senses. 

He rolled his foot heel to toe with each step, knees barely bent, helping to create the noiseless stride. He scarcely breathed, eyes and ears straining. He stopped in front of the exit, leaning towards the door and closing his eyes to concentrate. Undertones of life thrummed just on the opposite side of the door.

**Steady breathing, soft rasp of rough skin against loose dirt and the general murmur from a digesting belly.**

The filcher rocked back on his heels a little, casting a glance for a secondary exit before he remembered something important. He was a guest in Narein, not a thief. He'd proved his intentions through bringing back Corbin. There was no reason to sneak about.

—A constant rumble made the air shiver and pebbles dance. The three heads turned to watch a group of five rolling Gorons approach at an alarming speed. The thief sighed heavily, eyes drooping as his body reminded him just how weary he was. Cold wetness brushed his check, drawing his gaze from the approaching rock men. Reno gave an open mouth grin, whiskers whisking back and forth.

"Jushht a bit more." The boy encouraged, violet eyes huge and knowing. Link gave a lopsided grin, grasping his hurting shoulder prior to looking back towards the Gorons. 

Darmon, he could tell from the noticeable size difference, was at the forefront. The teen wondered if they were coming to close the entrance, disregarding the noon deadline he'd heard them discussing.—

Link wrapped his fingers around the door handle, staring down at the stiff, bandaged digits. As a thief, they'd been one of the most important tools he'd had. They'd been pampered and kept safe from wounds so their sensitivity wouldn't be degraded. Now tiny cuts slit over them where the gloves didn't cover. Calluses had developed along the pads. His body seemed to mock him, the sores and aches gaining intensity as he acknowledged his wounds. 

—Free-falling, air whistling in his ears. His right arm shrieked pain down his body, the hilt tight in his sweaty grip. The chamber blurred on the edge of his vision, only the Debaneko bright and sharp beneath him in crystalline detail.—

A Triforce decorated the bare back of his left, the triangle on the right glowing fiercely but casting no light. It was curious, he couldn't help but wonder if he were imagining things. That strange presence resting in the back of his mind until the quiet moments, a familiar comfort and alien all the same to the thief. His mind skittered from the questions that wished to rise once more, not wanting to admit how precariously he was settled on the rim of the break down. 

_What'm I doin'? Cripes. I…_ The teen let his forehead rest against the wood door, rubbing it gently and listening to his bangs grind against the barrier. His eyes closed, confused and unsure. _I shouldn' be doin' any of this. I should be sleeping in Kakariko…or filchin'. So many things coulda went wrong…did go wrong._

—Blood scalded his skin, the sound of ripping meat almost as loud as the heavy breathing in the teen's ears. Both hands were wrapped about the hilt, ensuring it didn't leave his grip during the wild slashes. There was no pattern, thoughts or rhythm. The body fluid painted his face, clumped his hair and got in his mouth. It was weighty and thick on his tongue, the coppery tang tainted by herbs and spices foreign.—

He tried to stop the images, scents and tastes from overwhelming him, but it was near impossible. They rose, unbidden, from the depths of his psyche. The only fight that had affected him before had been with the wolf. It hadn't been as violent, in a way. Link could've escaped, maybe. There would have been a fuss, so he'd plugged on. His life had been the only one on the line. 

The teen swallowed hard, surprised there was still bile left in his stomach to rise to his throat. He wouldn't be sick. He was a man and be damned if he threw up over a little blood and gore. 

—"We didn't think you'd make it." Darmon stated with a slight smile, large arms crossed over his chest. Link wondered at the self-control it probably took for the man to not wince away from his sanguine-caked form. The teen wanted to be clean, the soaked armor and gear chaffing his skin.

The other rock men at his back didn't hide their shock mixed with disgust. A Goron stepped from the group behind him, steel plates scaling down his shoulders, forearms and along the calves like armor.

"Yer confidence in me is inspiring. I think I'll cry in my pillow." The thief replied in bad temper, eyes following the new Goron as he strode past with purpose. Reno snickered from his perch. "Why bother lettin' me go in if ya thought I'd be meeten' my maker?"

"You seemed so earnest!" Darmon answered with false sincerity. "I could no more beckon the water from stone! Very impractical and pointless, I assure you. Besides…there was that slim chance you'd succeed."

"How…kind of you. I guess the gamble worked in yer favor no matter tha outcome." The blonde grumbled darkly, his head pounding fiercely. The sunlight was far too bright and hurt his eyes. He needed water…or liquor…no water. He needed hydration and any alcohol would leave him with more of a headache.

"Don't be that way, boy!" The Goron behind the thief chided. Link tossed a blue-eyed gaze over his shoulder. The lilac eyes met his, a thick arm wrapped around Corbin's shoulder. The younger male looked too small standing next to the other, face dark with proof of his embarrassment. "You did a great service!"

Link saw it coming, it was too glaringly obvious for him not to. It would have been so easy to slip to the side and avoid it. It required just only a small burst of energy, really. Yet, the dull-eyed teen could only watch with a kind of torpid fascination until the explosion knocked his breath away and white-hot pain tore through his body. He tumbled into darkness, consciousness lost before his mind could register the event fully.—

The eyes flicked wide, the hand pushing down on the handle and allowing the door to swing open. The algid air pooled through the opening to embrace the tired teen. The Goron on watch turned his massive head, bi-colored eyes easy to discern in the silvery light radiating from the clear night sky.

"Was wondering when you'd step out." He stated softly, voice like a rolling thunder in the stillness. "Sleep well?"

The teen stepped out, fingers combing through his sleep mussed blonde locks. "Like tha dead. Of course, bein' damn near tackled from a walking boulder and hugged senseless when I'm already on tha point of collapse does that to a jock."

The wide mouth stretched into a rueful grin, blunt teeth a pallid sliver in the night. "I would ask for some tolerance concerning that. It's been a bit since we've dealt with the Unshifted…we forget our strength. Probably for the best in any case, you were more like a Redead than human."

_Whatever that is._ The teen thought tiredly, turning his eyes toward heavens. "Any trouble in tha mines? How long I been out?"

"About four days. Only Clockwork Unknowns and they're no issue. We can't get down to get the bodies, but we set up a shrine for the dead." They both began to walk, quiet as they navigated the empty streets. Link could sense the life burning beneath his feet. It was strange; as if there was a pulse he'd never been aware of before.

"Are you Shad or Mikau?" Darmon finally asked as they hit the trail that led up to Stalfos Treasure and Trust.

_Depends on who ya ask._ Link thought, not reacting to the confrontation. The blue eyes flicked to the corner, watching the tall man look him over. "Right now? I'm feeling more like Alkaid."

The Goron Chief gave him a bland look, showing his lack of amusement. The teen lifted his left shoulder in a shrug. 

"Ask a stupid question…" Link started before shaking his head. "What do you think?"

"Viscen sent a bird Unknown up questioning a Mikau's progress. I assumed he meant you, but there was always a chance for error. It's an amazing coincidence because I know Viscen spoke of a Mikau after the Stalfos break in."

_Oh, sweet irony. Ya never cease ta make a situation interesting._ "So ya think what? That I'm tha filcher?"

"I never said Mikau was the thief." Darmon pointed out smugly. Link winced and sighed, annoyed that he fell into the trap so easily. "Not many thieves return to the scene of the crime."

"Not many filchers get inta tha position I'm in." The teen groused; fists curled in his pockets. "Did Viscen tell ya ta check yer coffers?"

"In not so many words. Your awfully calm for me figuring out your identity."

"No proof, fer one. All ya got is assumptions and a letter that could go missing. 'Sides, I kin scramble a-fore ya could assemble a squad." The blonde replied, sounding worn out. It really was a lot of trouble to go through, but if it'd keep his ass out of Shieka, he'd do it. "It'd be a little ungrateful ta pin me after I saved Corbin. After I escaped, I don' think I'd be easily persuaded to ever give services again."

"Got it all figured out?" Darmon asked in a tone the thief couldn't discern. Another shrug was his answer, but he could see the weariness in the teen's bearing. He could press the issue, but the young swordsman was correct on the lasting impression it would give. As dubious as he was, the teen was a good ally.

"I take it y'all were thoughtful enough ta clean me." The lanky boy changed the subject, rubbing his eyes.

"Our healer had a fit when he saw your condition. One thing I've learned is to bend to their will." The Goron admitted, not wanting to think of the condition the teen had been in. He'd seen worse, but it was still disconcerting. The first degree burns, cuts, massive bruising, and corpselike status throughout the cleaning and dressing. "Corbin was a little better. But we are a tad hardier than you."

"Hmph." The teen paused on a rise, eyes casting over the small town and scuffing the ground thoughtfully. "Who was tha jock who tried ta squeeze me to a pulp?"

"Mutoh, Corbin's father." The rock man stated with an unfettered grin. "He sends his thanks."

"None needed." Link replied thoughtlessly. 

_So humble! I didn't think you had it in ya, Hero!_ His inner Monk taunted.

_Thanks buys nothing to fill my belly._ The mudlark responded, fighting off a yawn. "Kin I keep tha clawshots?"

"The what?" The Goron sounded bewildered for a moment before he made a grunt of sudden understanding. "The Sweet Pluckers! That's right. Corbin said you'd found an interesting use for them."

"The Sweet Pluckers…?" The teen cocked a brow, tilting his head till he could see the bi-colored eyes glittering with amusement.

"We use them to grab jewels from high places. We're too heavy for it to lift, so it plucks them right from the stone." The grin grew wide and the long-eared human shook his head before turning back to the view. 

He listened to the soft click of metal and rustle of leather, curiosity making him turn. The Goron held out a heavy leather sack distended with its contents. The teen took it, opening the mouth to peer in at the insides, a little surprised to see small clay pots with wicks. 

"Bombs…pretty effective for their size, that I can guarantee." The older man stated. "Bag can hold up to fifteen. Come back up for refills."

"Cripes, that's a ways to go for some bombs." Link muttered, a smile stretching on his lips. He hooked it on his "I'll make good use of them."

"Tell Viscen that I'll have someone deliver more explosives once we settle back into the mine."

"What's this made out of?" The filcher fingered the leather curiously. It was warm even after being in the chilly air for as long as it had been.

"Dodongo stomach."

"I didn't even see any dodongos inside of the mine." The teen pointed out, brows furrowed as he looked up at the tall Goron.

"The clockwork Unknowns have frightened a good many of them off. They usually stay where there's plenty of magma since the Unknowns don't go there." The rock man passed a purse to the lanky boy next, who hefted it lightly to test its weight before tucking it into his shirt. "A thank you from the rest of the town."

They lapsed into another silence, staring out over the sleeping town. The teen was tempted to remain lost in his thoughts, comfortable in the presence of the Goron. He could feel dawn approaching, maybe an hour or two off. It was a strange sensation, to be as aware as he suddenly was. He wondered, distantly, if he'd always been that in tune with the world around him and it was the city that blocked it.

"I'm gonna get armed up and head back." Link finally broke the stillness, watching his fogging breath dissipate. The Goron nodded distractedly and the thief started back down the path.

"Shad." 

The teen paused, glancing back. Darmon hadn't moved, stalk still against the starlit sky.

"You're welcome back any time."

The coltish teen didn't reply for a moment, considering what wasn't uttered and the callous words the day he entered the mine. Did Darmon know he was aware they were ready to trap him in that hell pit? _He probably feels guilty._ It was hard not to like the man and Link didn't fight the small smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

-----------------

Link dunked his head in the river, blowing bubbles out of his nose to keep it clear. He pulled up and shook the excess free. The long digits of his left hand dug into the soft bank, water spraying from his lips as he exhaled sharply. Blue eyes locked on the reflection distorted by the drops of water draining from his gold threads. Impatience burned his stomach, frustration a bitter film on his tongue. 

It was taking longer to get down the mountain than it was to get up, mostly because every Unknown in the area seemed to home in on the pair. Of course, it wouldn't be nearly so bad if his right arm had more of a chance to heal. The moblins they encountered weren't nearly as bad as the clockwork Unknowns. The moblins were hack, slash, done, whereas the clockwork Unknowns involved running until he could figure out a way to beat them one-handed. 

—"Mayhap we should send an escort with you." Darmon suggested at the gates. The darkness was abating slowly, buttery-orange a light blush along the horizon. "You won't be able to use your shield with your arm in a sling."

Link paused, considering the possibility as Reno shifted on his shoulder. The thought of returning to town with an escort like a coddled princess dissuaded him. "Nah. I'll be good. Y'all'll need most of yer men for clearing the mines, I'm bettin'. I don' need a babysitter to get down the hill."

"Hmph." The Goron didn't sound convinced, but he wasn't going to push the issue. It was all up to the teen to be foolhardy.—

_I guess I shoulda just taken the offer. What made me turn it down again? Oh, that's right. I didn't wanna seem weak. Cripes, you'd think I'd have more sense than that._ The blonde chastised silently, giving his injured arm an annoyed glance. _Damnit all!_

A thudding rustle and excited chirps erupted on either side of the teen. He reacted thoughtlessly, drawing his sword and swinging as he rose. The scaly moblin wielding a spiked club burst from the shrubs, the dirty, shredded clothes hanging from the thin limbs obviously left over from the Shift. Link sawed the blade across the exposed throat, making a mental note to sharpen the rapidly dulling blade soon, crushing what he didn't rip until the Unknown burst into ash. 

Link ducked under the wild swing from the machete totting moblin at his back, swinging the sword up to break the arm. The moblin gave a garbled shrill, makeshift weapon dropping from the no longer mobile hand, the bare feet brushed from the earth with a sweeping motion of the blade at the back of his knees. The Unknown watched the blonde stand, the soiled blade descending towards the exposed, scrawny throat. The small mind tried to comprehend what it'd considered, if the moblin had paused to think, impossible as his world turned to ash.

The lanky teen scowled at the scattered piles in disdain. The last few hours were only going to further grate on the thief's raw nerves. He just wanted to be done with the whole mess.

"Cain' ya shtay outta trouble fer a few breathessh?" Reno chided, slipping from the bushes to see the aftermath. The fox had only taken a quick break to find a snack and the older boy had managed to find a fight. The teen huffed, sheathing his sword.

"I swear they're hunten' me now!" He complained, holding out his right arm in invitation. The kit didn't pause, leaping onto the limb and scrambling to the right shoulder. "Damn the Sages! It's their fault somehow!"

Reno snickered, but didn't feel obligated to reply. 

--------------------

Link walked through New Mido, ignoring the open stares he was receiving from the Upper Levelers. It could be his odd form of dress, the green tunic being worse for wear and his belt weighted with strange weapons, or Reno settled on his shoulder like a pet. 

If it was the clothing, it had to be the singed, grungy condition that drew the looks instead of the make. Since most clothing had been burned after the plague and Dolstrol, where the majority of textiles were cultivated and crafted, had fallen under the volcano eruption to leave the rest of the country with little choice. The canvas and leather clothing was everyone's only option, being cheap and easy to make. The simple, rustic clothing made it to where Lower and Upper Levelers difficult to discern.

Then again, no one except for the Provost Guard wore weapons and armor either. Link looked like a mercenary to those he wasn't acquainted with. The blonde could care less of the reason for the attention, though he'd rather be ignored in turn. He used to excel in blending in with the crowd so it was frustrating to so damned visible. However, his lack of a dwelling made storing his equipment impossible.

"I need a pack to keep all the extra stuff." He murmured to the fox. The redhead snorted and Link threw an annoyed look at the kit.

"Ya need to rid yershelf of tha dressh."

"Cripes! Do you know how heavy the cuirass and gauntlets are?" The blonde asked. "They'd be dead weight on my back an' I'd look damn foolish just wearing them plain. If I had a place that I trusted to store them, maybe I'd just leave everything there, but…I like the Lower Levelers, but they aren't guard dogs. They'd just sell it all."

"Like you aren' gonna." Reno pointed out blandly.

"Yeah, but I'll have the rupees. I don't plan on staying Kakariko as soon as I wrap up business with the Sages. We'll need all the rupees we can get for when we leave." Link pointed out, pausing by the tanner's stall.

"Where will we go?" The fox asked as the blonde considered the cuts of leather displayed. He was secretly pleased that the thief was planning on bringing him along. "Narien and Kakariko are tha only shities." 

"I don't know…Can I see that pack?" Link asked the grizzly old man. The Tanner obliged as the blonde tested the strength of the leather and the size of the pouch. The pot-bellied man stared at the fox on the teen's shoulder, who gave the stranger a bare toothed grin. "How much?"

The shop owner fumbled for a moment, but found his tongue quickly. The price was outrageous and Link had to fight to keep his mouth shut, least he roar in outrage. Instead, he pulled at the straps and gave a counter price, far below what the pack's worth. The tanner's eyes bugged out in mock horror.

"The straps are poorly sewn on." Link pointed out, showing the seams that were revealed at a good tug. "I've seen better stitching in the Lower Levels."

"The hide is tanned evenly! Look at the uniform color and thickness!" The merchant crooned, falling into the usual dance of dickering.

Reno didn't miss the pleased grin that slipped over the blonde's face as he countered with ease. It was hard to believe the budding swordsman had been a pain in the ass the entire trip back down the mountain. 

_Always carping at every possible hold up. I'm just glad the jock took out his temper on the Unknowns._ The kit mused. _I never knew him to play the babe before. I guess Monk was right about me having that 'calming effect.' I don't understand why, but his fussing died when I made an effort._

The rupees were exchanged, both parties feeling cheated and giving proof to a deal well struck. Link walked away, finding a clear alley to settle on his haunches. He put his back against the wall so he could keep watch on the pathway as he stripped. 

The violet-eyed Unknown watched his companion stow the excess gear. The gauntlets went in first, followed by the clawshots, boomerang, slingshot, and ammo. The fox eyed the crest and bomb bag resting on top as the blonde reached to grab the leather straps to pull the opening closed and securing it with a knot.

"Why not buy a bigger bag fer tha bombz?" The kit asked, flesh paw reaching out to tap the pack lightly. Link frowned, as if confused by the sudden topic. "Sshoo ya kin carry more."

The azure eyes blinked from under the gold forelock, the teen seeming to contemplate the words. He rubbed his injured arm thoughtfully; eyes unfocused as they roamed the bustling crowd from the quiet alley. The reasoning was not unsound, but he only gave the fox a helpless look.

"Dunno. It's made for the bombs…sooo…" His voice faded, giving a one-sided shrug that lifted the kit slightly. Link pulled the flap over, buckling it before carefully slinging it over his wounded shoulder. He looked less ridiculous with just a sword and shield on his back. The noise was significantly less, though only the thief had noticed before. 

"If ya shay so." The jaws opened, revealing pearly teeth and a long tongue as Reno panted in a bemused fashion. Link seemed to be acting an increasingly unpredictable fashion when it came to his equipment. Where the blonde had been careless before (according to Viscen), he took time to clean his gear carefully as they'd traveled down the mountain.

The kit continued to ponder in the comfortable silence that followed, trying to pinpoint when and why the change had happened. Link had been a carefree thief before, well versed in stealth and awareness. The blonde was fantastic at dissembling, but lacked the ability to lie out right. It was a strange contradiction to the teen's personality. He'd hated confrontation, but didn't hesitate to use force when called for. He'd been quiet, with the feeling of something wild roiling just under the surface. 

Those feral emotions seemed to have broken free, finding an outlet, but burying something else in the process. Reno was unsure of how the teen first reacted to having to wield a noble's weapons, seeing how he'd only really used was a lead core baton before. The changes were for the better considering the amount of fighting the teen engaged it, but it made the fox edgy.

------------

"Link! Oi-ya! Link's here!" "Link!" "Link! What'djabringus!" "He's got meat!" "Where ya been?" "I missed you!" "Reno's wit 'im! Reno!" "Who didja fight Link?" "Gimme some! Gimmie some!" "Nice dress!"

The blonde teen grinned at the sudden assault of children of varying ages and Shift. They were wild, but just as loveable as he remembered. He let the paper wrapped haunch fall off his shoulder and scowled at the mudlarks. He kept his gear pack out of the questing finger's reach. Care he might, but they were still Lower Levelers as was he. 

"Oi! Dress or no! It's wears better'n yer rags!" He teased the gap-toothed boy that could easily be mistaken for a girl with his long black hair. Silver and gold feathers sprouted from his arms in a parody of wings, but far more useless. "Where'z Mistress Kotake?"

"Ya bludy know where I be, mudlark! If yer willen' ta make yer way, Link…" The crone cackled from her corner of the abandoned train station. She was settled near the windows so the smoke from the cooking fire could drift free. The ticket counter was to her right, benches and tables set up around her. The tabletops were cluttered with knives and vegetables, sprigs of varying seasonings scattered about. 

Blind Lori sat to Kotake's left, chuckling quietly. She was peeling a tuber, hands slow and steady, not taking off more than what was needed. Dirty bandages were wrapped around her head, covering the sightless orbs. Her spider web strands were barely a few finger lengths, floating in the air in delicate wisps. 

Mai (Lori's twin) sat across from them, a pile of mending in her ample lap. Though she held her sight, proof being a pair of clear blue eyes, she'd lost her legs to the plague. She gave enough pause to wave a liver spotted hand in greeting to the odd pair. 

It never ceased to amaze the teen how well the survivors had turned the abandoned station into a home. The rows of benches were covered in blankets and barely stuffed cushions he'd brought them. There were tattered rugs thrown over the cement floor, cracked pottery settled about the areas where the children had been settled. 

"Back, you silly beggars!" Link ordered, tousling the blonde curls of a gilly no more than seven years. Bloody horns had sprouted on either side of her skull, little Verene's teeth blocky and brown eyes wide. "If ya wanna eat, ya'd best lemme deliver yer dinner!"

"Link where ya been!" A shaggy haired brunette boy demanded, skipping around the teen's feet as he handed over the meat to Kotate. Steal layered over Mattes's throat and ridging over the shoulders under the flimsy shirt. "Ya've been gone fer a good spell!"

"Only a week, jock. No time at all." The blonde replied as he flopped down on one of the rugs to give the old woman a chance to made work with her chopper. He kept a possessive arm around the pack, grinning at the mudlarks. "Been up in Narein."

"Uuu-waah!" The horned Verene plopped down on Link's lap, making the teen grunt since she weighed far more than she appeared. The rest of the seven or so children crowded around the thief, tails (for those that had grown them) flicking madly. "What'dja do?"

Reno jumped from the teen's shoulder and trotted over to settle by the old woman as she quartered up the meat to add to the stew. She glanced at the fox, silver eyes canny. The kit stared back, noting how thin and frail the arms were beneath the billowing clothing. He had no idea how bad off she was, since her clothing gave her a bulky appearance. When parts of the clothing began to bulge suspiciously, he lost curiosity of what lay beneath. 

The children were silent as Link began to give an elaborate rendition of their adventures in the volcano. Reno watched with amusement as the teen embellished the amount of danger they actually encountered. Though there had been a fair amount, Reno didn't remember quite as many clockwork Unknowns attacking at once. The most he remembered was five, but Link made it sound like an army had overrun them.

"How'z yer day, Mish-tresh Kotate?" Reno asked softly, large violet eyes rolling up. The old crone gave a grin, showing off crooked and missing yellow teeth.

"As well as ta be expected, young Reno. Our Link has changed, he has. I never thought a mudlark could be settle on being the mayor's pet." She pointed out, carefully adding cubes to the boiling stew.

"No pet." Reno denied softly, though he feared the Sages were foolish enough to think so. "A bruiser. Where're tha otherz?"

"Tha old folks, ya mean?" Kotate asked curiously as she carefully stirred the meat into the stew. Mai and Lori laughed softly, amused that Kotate didn't lump them with the others. "They're walkin' 'bout tha city. Tired of being cooped, they are. Leave us three with tha pack of mudlarks." 

The sixty or so adults that survived the plague and still able-bodied were out of the station, having been drafted for the guard. The thirty-six orphaned children were being divided amongst the adults, as were the twenty-two crippled elderly. New families sprouting from the ruins to make what they could out of the new chances they'd been giving. He'd seen the skeletons of houses behind the stations, proof that the Lower Levels were ready to move out the improvised home. 

Everyone did his or her part here. The children did their best to keep the place clean and scavenge about the area for the little things. Those too young to be drafted in the guard, but old enough to work ran messages or did odd jobs for those in the Market. The elderly cooked and mended, giving lessons and monitoring the little ones. 

Where the Upper Levels were still salvaging their old lives and weeping, the Lowers have moved past. They grieved; as all humans are want to do after tragedy, but it didn't hold them back. Forward was the only place for them to go; having no liberty to pause least they lose their lives in carelessness.

Reno nodded and gave a toothy grin, quieting to listen to Link recounting the battle of Debaneko with flourish. He laughed as some of the braver boys demanded to hold Link's blade and shield. The teen showed an amazing amount of patience as he helped the armor plated boy handle his sword. A brunette girl with a long tail twisting about and downy fur tugged the shield over her back. 

Link was giving a small sword lesson when Reno heard approaching footsteps. The tender triangles twitched and the fox considered the cadence that the pair walked. Guards had a particular way of walking, making them easy to pick out. He gave a warning yap, catching the thief's attention. The blonde frowned, collecting his gear from the curious hands. 

The other children who had sensitive hearing had picked up on the stranger's approach, turning to stare at the entrance to their sanctuary. The lightly armored guards poked their heads in, gesturing to the blonde who was already untangling himself from the hoard. Reno ran over, climbing up the teen's back to settle on the shoulder.

"Guess we're being summoned." Link murmured in disgust. Irritation began to build within him. He wasn't some lapdog to come when called. If he didn't feel so damned antsy with the seal in his pack, he would tell them where they could put their summons. 

"Mayhap Trish will refill yer poshionz." Reno pointed out, easing the rising temper. The thief grinned, looking forward to seeing the feisty brunette. 

-------------

Link slipped into Chris's laboratory, his frustration and indignation melting at the sight of the winged potions woman. She had her back to him, fiddling with something on the table. Her wings were tucked close, but fluttered lightly in what he assumed was the beat of her heart. It gave the image of a sunset hesitant to unfurl, trembling just above the horizon like a shy child.

The blue gaze flicked about the room curiously, surprised and pleased to see that she was alone. He honestly didn't know if he could take seeing Errol or Monk when he was feeling less than patient. He felt Reno brush past his leg and gave a light clap to announce his entrance, kicking the door shut. Tris turned around, dark eyes warming with pleasure at the sight of the blonde. 

"Yer back whole! I feared ya'd lost me fifty rupees and not return!" She teased, propping her fists on the full hips. 

"Who'z tha cracked fool that bet against ya?" Link asked, trying to keep his annoyance at bay. It was comforting to know that the older woman had faith in him, but a little annoying that someone else didn't. His guess would be Monk or Errol, but would be hard pressed to decide was the actual culprit. 

Tris waved a hand dismissively, the bandages standing over the poison colored skin. She took a few steps forward, wings extending more for balance. "Ne'er you mind. He's learnt, I'd hope. How much potion didja use?"

"All of it." Link admitted with a grimace, settling his pack on the floor and reaching into the pouch to drag out the four empty containers. The brunette frowned in disbelief; unable to help noticing that the teen's right arm was kept firmly at his side. The blonde knelt down, opening his pack to unload the crest. 

"Any moans or gripes?" She asked, not sure if she should ask about the teen's injuries. It was daunting to see he'd used them all up and still managed to acquire a lasting hurt. The ex-thief had taken far longer than expected to return. Viscen has been particularly worried when the Goron leader hadn't replied back about Link's/Mikau's progress in the scroll they'd received stating that the blonde had actually exterminated the problem. 

"Maybe they should be stronger so I can take half a swallow and have the same effect?" Link suggested, frowning as he tried to remember how it felt to drink them. It'd always been in a rush and he didn't have a chance to properly evaluate them. It'd been one frustrating fight after another, giving him barely pause to wipe his nose let alone think. He set the dead wait on the table and stood, shouldering his pack. "It'll last longer then."

"No urges to drink it now? No sweating after a few hours? I'm betting you took it all in one day."

"I did, but I was out for four days after, so I dunno about sweating or yenin' fer it." The teen admitted, hoping it wouldn't become a habit after he had one of her concoctions. It was bloody inconvenient. He gave a helpless, one-sided shrug. "Sorry, Tris."

"Don' worry yer head o'er it. I'm sure ye'll get a better handle on it next time." She sounded so sure and gave him a soft smile as she leaned down to stroke the fox's wedged head affectionately. "Was it that bad?"

"He wuz amazen!" Reno gushed, tongue lolling in pleasure. He tapped her leg with his metal paw. "Killed a nashty Unknown one handed!"

"One handed, huh?" The brown eyes turned up to look at the coltish thief, amused to see a flush touching his high cheeks. 

"He's over tellen'. I dislocated my right arm." Link grumbled, rubbing his shoulder thoughtlessly. "Where are Houlihan and the other asses?"

"Chris's playing with a book. Monk and Errol should be returning soon. Viscen should be getting his orders from Chris soon after." Tris replied; eyeing the green tunic the teen still wore, wondering if he'd grown attached to the clothing. She could see mail peeking from the hem and collar. The gauntlets looked new, their strange hues pretty and making the woman wonder where he'd acquired them. "Ya like yer dress?" 

The cobalt eyed boy scowled. "It covers up the armor. I dun have nowhere ta put tha stuff. 'Sides, it's comphy." 

She gave a throaty laugh, throwing back her head in amusement. The teen had been quieter in the Lower Levels, contained and pleasant in the way of company. The change seemed to be for the better. Tris liked the outgoing attitude. 

"Mah…Tris." 

"Hmm?" She looked up at the teen, straightening. The blonde had his 'serious' face on again and it was endearing on features that he'd yet to grow into.

"What do you know about the Sages?" His voice was soft, eyes averted as if he wasn't sure if he should be asking to begin with. 

"Why don't you tell me what you know?" She asked seriously, dropping the Lower Level cant.

"I know that Ganondorf was a big problem to a land called Hyrule. A Princess sealed herself away to stop the end of the world…or something to that effect." The blonde replied, leaning against a stool.

"The Sages, as far I understand, were started by her brother after she did. Our primary goal was to keep her from being woken up again. Monitoring the keys and where she slept. Monk and his twin brother guarded the Princess. A lineage thing, I think, on their family." She paused, scouring her mind. "Hmm. A lot of things were lost. The lore is passed by mouth, so its faded or been altered. Can't be sure what's truth." 

Link considered for a moment, blue eyes lost. "What was supposed to happen when the Princess woke up?"

"The end of the world. A little exaggerated, but the Shift was bad enough." Tris pointed out, crossing her arms over her ample breasts. 

The doors slammed open, revealing the Mayor in a white linen shirt and canvas trousers. Though the gear was far from what the man was used to wearing, the grey-eye man looked like he'd always dressed like a bindle. The teen bristled at the smirk the tall man gave him.

"Just the thief I wished to see." Errol stated as he swept a hand through the green-black bangs thoughtlessly. He seemed a little distracted, dark eyes distant for a moment. His gaze found Tris, who was leaning on the table next to Link, giving her a small smile.

"Oh? His Majesty wishes something of me?" Link replied snidely. "I couldn't tell. Perhaps you should send an escort to ensure I arrive promptly next time."

"How comforting to know that you'll come a-scampering like a good Hero." Monk droned as he stepped past the taller man, azure eyes like ice. 

"I'm no pet." The blonde snapped, giving the bald man a sharp look. 

"Yet you arrive so promptly! Ready to heel!" Monk pointed out, striding past them to settle on a tall stool. He had a superior smirk on the too thin lips.

"It has nothing to do with heeling, I simply missed seeing my reflection on your shiny head." The thief shot back. The kit barked a surprised laugh from the teen's feet. 

The old man gave a nasty sneer, signaling the blonde's victory. Link smirked, but it died quickly when Errol opened his mouth. 

"We have a job for you, thief." The Mayor interrupted the gloating, grey eyes glittering with barely contained amusement at their bickering. That spelled nothing good for the blonde, seeing how he could sense a general dislike from the older man. Link assumed it was because he'd robbed the older man's parents and saw him responsible for the Shift. 

The reasoning wasn't far off for the dislike Errol had for the thief, however; it was only the surface. 

Link, Shadow Thief of the Wards, was the darling of the Lower Levelers and impossible to cage. 

Errol tried to keep his feelings from interfering. Perhaps if the boy had been more willing to help and didn't drag his heels at every order the older man could learn to suffer the teen's company. However, he wasn't and he did and therefore, Errol couldn't see past the thief he'd been chasing. 

"Not another 'recon' mission, I hope." The blonde ground out, scowling in displeasure. 

"No. Not nearly as stirring, I assure you." The Mayor shrugged, eyes flicking towards Monk, who looked pleased. He knew from the message from Darmon that the task had been far more arduous than planned. He'd felt a twinge of guilt for that at the time. He didn't like the boy, but he didn't want him dead. "You're to scour the shops for an Ocarina. Relatively safe, I assure you."

"A what?" Disbelief was swelling fast to mingle with frustration. _What kinda shit job is that! Do I look like a damn go-for to them_!

"An Ocarina. Surly you know what one is?" Monk interrupted, voice condescending. He didn't fight the guilty satisfaction at watching Link's face gain a healthy flush of building temper. The silence lengthened for a few more breathes before the Mayor took over.

"There're a few music shops and re-sell shops in the market. If there's no luck there, you'll have to go back up to Narein to check." The taller man said calmly, wishing the filcher would just do as he was told. If he had time, he'd just do it, but there were too many pressing issues that held precedence. 

"Is snorting Angel Dust normal fer the Sages?" Link asked the fox at his feet. His temper roiled beneath his control and he tried his best to divert it. Reno turned his wedged head up, soft triangles twitching. 

"In their cupsh?" The boy suggested. The fur trembled along his spine, giving proof to his annoyance with such an order. It was a task for a servant. Link was specialized, as far as the kit was concerned. Now, if they'd wanted the teen to _steal_ it…

"I do believe you have your orders, Hero." Monk pointed out, brow cocked mockingly. He'd known the boy would rebel and hoped to be the one to put him in his place.

The thief's blood pounded through his veins and he turned his darkening gaze to the cold blue. Angry retorts of where they could stuff their orders danced just behind his lips. The superior look the bald man gave him only served to feed his ire. 

The fox gave the teen a nip on the back of his knee, giving the teen the interruption he needed. He gave a distracted grin to the violet-eyed Unknown before walking towards the door, ignoring both men until he swung a door open.

"I think I've filled my part of tha bargain, really. Yer precious bombs will be delivered." The teen gave a quick wave without bothering to look back. "'S far's I kin tell, y'all kin go ta hell."

The blonde stepped out and yanked the door shut.

"Cripes, Monk!" Tris shouted in frustration. She gave the blue-eyed man a dark look, tugging at her auburn curls. If there'd been a way for her to stop things without making them worse, she would have. A semblance of order had to be maintained, though, so the only defiance she could offer with Link in the room had been silence. "It's hard 'nough keepin' tha boy on our side wi'out ya insulting him!"

"The Book said we need an Ocarina." Monk pointed out in a disinterested voice, barely gracing the busty woman with an acknowledging look. 

"He works for us, anyway. He needs to learn to take orders. Viscen can't do everything." Errol muttered, rubbing his forehead as he tried to keep his thoughts in order. Things seemed to be spiraling out of his control and there was nothing he could do about it. Relying on others didn't come easily to the green haired man. 

"Wrong!" She barked. Her wings flared, framing her body in an array of dusty gold hues. The winged woman took steady steps towards him, brown eyes flashing. "He helps us! He doesn' hafta do a damn thing for us! Try to remember that even if he had sworn an oath, it wouldn't be to you, Monk. It'd be to tha Princess. Last I peeked yer far from royalty. I do question yer manhood, though."

She brushed past the stunned men to exit in the same fashion as her Lower Level friend. 

No one noticed the fox's hasty exit before the door slammed shut.

-------------

Link walked around the mansion tiredly, waving a hand in greeting to the guardsmen as he made his rounds. He stopped to share a few words with each of them, trading news from Narein and confirming/dispelling rumors of the condition of the Goron town. It was just the beginning of the evening watch and there were no serious threats to the mansion. In fact, it was laughable that there was even a patrol. 

_Why should Errol have so many people wasting their time? Is it because I'm back in town? Cripes, he's a paranoid bastard. Like it would keep me out anyway._ Link thought with a smirk, fists deep in his pockets. He'd changed into dark brown breeches and left the white shirt to hang just past his thighs. The sling was with the rest of his gear, tucked in a corner on the roof. Acquiring a room would be his next priority…unless Errol and Monk had their way and sent him off before he could catch his breath. 

He mentally mapped out the positions of all the guards, confirming their routes by tagging along like a moonstruck jock. When there was still an hour left for the evening crew, Link made his excuses and headed back up to the third floor where the Mayor's quarters were. Reno jumped from the banister to his shoulder, claws digging into the sore muscles.

The teen didn't protest, knowing the trembling fox was just excited over the prospect of seeing his idol in action. It was a little embarrassing, so the thief did his best to ignore the distracting emotions. 

"Errol'sh in town." The fox murmured, voice tight. "Shouldn' be back too shoon. Are ya shure ya wanna rishk it?"

"Ya said that the book was tha reason ta send me cracked errands." Link pointed out, eyeing the fox. "What tha hell could a book say ta make them do it? I'm no pet, Reno. I'ma thief. I hafta remind these Sages who they're dealen' with."

Link fingered the picks in his pocket as he walked towards the door. Reno didn't reply, mostly because he agreed with the coltish blonde. 

Reno leaned forward to sniff the lock as the teen settled on his haunches before the door. It was a simple lock and would require only a few breaths to open. The faster, the better considering he'd be out in the open till he managed it. The last thing he needed was to be caught. He knew that the fox would warn him of anyone was getting near, so he let the nosy boy watch as he made short work of both locks. He slipped in silently, closing the door and locking it once more. 

The room was just as elaborate and over decorated as he'd imagined it would be. The four-poster ebony bed was against the far wall to the left. It was king sized with a goose-down, silk comforter draped over the mattress (probably feather). Pillows were pilled on against the headboard detailed with ivy and birds. The heavy black drapes were tied to the similarly etched beams. Black velvet shaded all of the mirrors, a huge clothes press in the back corner of the room. The floors were covered with plush rugs of muted designs. Bookcases lined the walls, family portraits in heavy gold frames taking up the space between them. 

A fireplace was to the far right, overstuffed dark leather chairs framing the marble mantle. Wood was settled in a cradle opposite to the fire pokers. Glass figures of various beasts mounted the mantle in lieu of more paintings. The glass doors leading to the terrace were ahead, giving a perfect view of the Capital building the Crow Bait Lake it resided in.

The thief ignored the rest of the room, walking towards the bed and kneeling on the soft carpet. He ran his hands under the pillows; the fox jumping to the clear bed stand to watch with interest. The blonde carefully felt over the comforter before proceeding to dive between the feather mattress and the box spring. A quick glance under the bed and pulling open the drawers in the mango wood bed stand the kit settled on. 

Link shut them and paced to the bookcases, running his fingers along the spines of the books and taking in the heady scent of pine emitting from the wood. He checked in the seat cushions and around the mantle, his movements deft and practiced. Reno felt some pride to notice that anything the thief touched was left looking undisturbed. 

The filcher gave the chest at the foot of the bed a curious look, deciding that he'd wait till he'd exhausted all other options before looking inside. He stepped up to the clothes press, opening it slowly to avoid noise. He dove his arms into the clothing, feeling along the bottom. Growing more frustrated, he pulled open the drawers. His brows jumped to his hairline mildly amused at the sight of the man's loincloths. 

"He has…little Triforces on them…" He muttered, pulling up the garments and smirking. The grey-eyed man was a little more obsessed than the teen had first thought. He carefully riffled through the rest of the curiously decorated under things before his fingers brushed a hard bundle. He extracted it gently and rearranged the clothing to the way it'd appeared before he'd begun searching. "Goal."

He placed the cloth-covered bundle in his lap, tugging the string free to uncover a leather tome. The clasp was copper-green, the keyhole warped from one too many picking it open. The band that would hold the cover closed missing completely. There were no letters but a crest that similar to the one he'd seen on the armor he'd first fought. The black spread eagle pressed deep into the cover, but there was a Triforce cupped in the spread appendages. He drew his bandaged fingertips over the symbol, a curious feeling teasing his mind. 

"Shomeone'z comin'." Reno murmured, surprising the teen. He hadn't even heard the fox approach. He nodded in acknowledgement and pushed the drawer closed, swinging the doors to shut them quietly. He tucked in his shirt as he stood, storing the surprisingly light book inside of the pouch.

The filcher unlocked the glass doors, opening them enough to allow them exit and shutting them. The lanky teen knelt, locking the door using his picks. Reno clambered onto his shoulder as he grabbed the rope he'd left hanging from the roof. Link jumped, shimmying up the rope in short order and dragging his still sore body over the edge of the roof. 

His right shoulder protested and he clutched it, trying to hold in angry curses. He would have remained in that position, but an impatient Reno urged him to move. The teen pulled up the rope and coiling it, slinging it over his good shoulder, the thief grumbling at the fox's impatience.

If Link cared about being caught, the mudlark would have went outside the city to read the tome. He planned on returning the book, knowing there wasn't much value in something that no one could understand. Since it wasn't a pressing issue, the teen settled on the roof, leaning against the spire. The kit sniffed the book, sneezing at the musty smell tickling his nose. The blonde opened the thick cover, thumbing through the pages.

"This is like a journal." Link murmured, brow furrowed as his cobalt gaze flicked over the page he'd stopped on thoughtlessly. The words made sense, though the teen had no clue why since he had no idea what language it was in. His fingers traced over the doodles in the margins of the page between untidy scrawls. A girl with long hair was being crushed with boulders in one. Another was a crowned demon with wild eyes. 

"Ya undershtand thish messh?" The fox asked incredulously as the teen grunted an affirmative. "What'z it shay?" Reno batted at the book with his flesh leg, not understanding the strange symbols scrawled across the pages. Not that the mudlark ever learned to read, but he could tell that it looked nothing like Common. Link could, which was a rarity for the Lower Levels.

"Ya want me to read the whole thing?" The thief asked as he flipped the pages until he hit a page he could understand. The fox wuffed the affirmative and the teen sighed. "Cripes. Fine.

_**Today my darling horror of a sibling demanded I take her to visit the whelp of a hero. How a fifteen year old that has not even lain with a woman foiled the Gerudo Lord's plans is beyond my twenty years of experience. Nayru, grant me wisdom and patience to withstand the trails that have been set before me. How do you explain to a headstrong Princess that the world does not revolve to her whim? **_

_**Nay, the only one who jumps at her command is her young knight.**_

_**If I dare had time to ponder, I do believe I would come to the conclusion of budding love between the two. Yet, it cannot be. Their paths are etched in stone too set for even my sister's thick skull. A hard road has been traveled, but it ends not here. **_

_**The young lad will find Knighthood very much in league with his talents and it will further separate them. The dear Princess will find her life bond to another for politics. **_

_**Farore, allow not for my courage to leave me, for I fear that it will be to the Dessert Lord whose rebellion we have just laid to rest. The irony is sweet and bitter, for the Southern Border needs to be fortified…**_

Link faded, glancing down the rest of the page and the two that followed. He frowned, ignoring the fox that shifted anxiously on his shoulder. Clearing his throat, Link leaned his head back and stared at the various sketches as he tried to sort out what he managed to skim through. 

"It goes on inta political jargon. They were havin' issues with-a couple-a countries testing their military power. It doesn' talk 'bout his plans. Just complaints an' a li'l of what's been tried. After that he just starts bleatin' 'bout tha harvest." The blonde muttered, squinting at the scribbles. They seemed to be more a whim than the carefully inked letters. He turned the book sideways, lips moving as he read it silently. "Hoo-ra…what's this?

"_**Fleeing the havoc that grips the plains/innocents find shelter in the shadow of ruins/trapped in the midst of what greed hath wrought/the Dark King's siege to break/The hero dives into the fray."**_

"Well, that wuz pretty pointless. Poetry?" The teen muttered. "What tha hell does it mean? Is this jibberish what makes them decide what I'll do?"

Reno sniffed the page as the thief leaned back against the spire, brows creased in thought. "What about tha otha pagez?" The fox prompted, flesh paw patting against the book.

The blue eyes blinked and focused back on the book. "Ah, right." He flipped through the yellow pages; frown deepening when he realized that he couldn't make sense of what followed. He thumbed back; slightly comforted that he could read the preceding pages. "I can't get anything after, which is weird."

The thief propped his elbow on his knee, cupping his chin while he held the book in front of him between two fingers in disgust. Reno huffed in mild agitation, jumping from the teen's shoulder to pace the roof.

"Where do ya think tha book talked about?"

"Hell, I dunno. It probably doesn't even mean anythin' about now, shorty." The long-eared boy pointed out.

"But Houlihan an' Monk sheemed ta think shooo. Tha'sh why they shent ya ta tha mountain an' graveyard."

The blue eyes focused on the kit, moonlight catching on his metallic bits. "Do ya remember what they said?"

"Hmmm…?" the fox settled onto his haunches, head tilted towards the dark sky as if to cry to the swollen moon. The violet eyes shut and he ground his teeth thoughtfully. "Should be in tha book, Link."

The teen flapped a hand in annoyance and flipped back through the pages. It was difficult to sift through the random bits that had nothing to do with what he was looking for. Side notes of things to bring up with the king later, more gruesome deaths depicted of his royal sister. 

"_**Unseen wind of plague shrieks/mourning wails and the stench of carnage/diving into depths where sickness spills/The hero fighting for lives/the cost high, but the cure is saved." **_Link frowned, unimpressed._** "Breaking through the surface of the world's flesh/silence of life swallowed by death/to subdue the earth's terrible rage/deny power its reign.**_

"Cripes. How did they get graveyard from that? What was the cost?" The thief mused aloud. Reno didn't answer at first, licking his chops as his soft triangles flicked restlessly.

"'Where sickness spills.' Houlihan remembered tha' tha water treatment plant wuz behind tha graveyard. They dishcovered tha' tha enteranssse hadn' faired the Shhiffft and knew tha' ya could get there through tha cave." Another pause and the kit gave a strange shrug, mostly involving lifting his left paw to jab his shoulder into the air. "No one knowsh tha price."

"Tha other one?"

"I guess the answer wouldn't be so obvious to a mudlark." The pair jerked around, only mildly surprised to see Errol scowling darkly at them. It angered the man to know his privacy had been compromised. "Return the Book, thief."

Link stared for a moment, lips in a flat line. He stood with a grunt, eyes darkening as the corners of his mouth turned downwards. Agitation burning in his chest, waving the leather bound tome carelessly. It was disconcerting to the see the Mayor standing on the roof. Not that he was worried that Errol could d anything. It was just out of character. Why would he come up when he could just send someone up? "You wanna know the next one or are ya just gonna pull an errand from yer asses ta send me after while you piddle around trying to decipher this?"

"You would have me believe that you understood a scrape of what you saw in that Book." The Mayor stated with a skeptical tone. He was more irritated at himself for underestimating the tiresome thief. He should have probably sent the guards up the fetch the teen, but he didn't know what the teen would do to the Book. What if the mudlark threw it in the lake just to be spiteful? 

The teen was honestly surprised that the words were embedded in his mind, teasing him with their tincture of familiarity. The words slipped from his lips in a dialect like the one uttered by his Gramps and the Princess. Silky and sweet, the phrase was hauntingly familiar in the singsong tongue. 

Errol didn't reply, his face not twitching at the strange lilting language, having heard Chris speak it often. There was a certain amount of surprise to hear it from the troublesome youth and his mind refused to formulate a rebuttal.

"Fleeing the havoc that grips the plains/innocents find shelter in the shadow of ruins/trapped in the midst of what greed hath wrought/the Dark King's siege to break/The here dives into the fray." Monk translated easily as he carefully picked his path over the peak to join the three already by the spire. "Didn't know you had it in you, Hero."

_I didn't know, either. _The thief thought, ignoring the hated nickname in his confusion. Monk's brows lifted, waiting for something, but the blonde waved his hand as it to scatter the troubling thoughts. "Ya mean you're deciding my quest off a buncha stupid limericks! Cripes. It's any wonder that I manage to do anything right when you can't even give me good details. I just thought y'all were being asses in general."

"How utterly typical of you to assume something so low brow." Monk drawled, stepping close to pluck the book from the teen's hands. "However, you have earned your super. There's a good Hero."

Resentment burned inside the blonde, but he only crossed his arms over his chest. There wasn't much point in trying to get the journal back. He couldn't move forward in it and not much point in back reading. "Good to know someone is. I'd like to know what ya give to yer little group that makes them so keen ta keep ya around? A pet, mayhap?"

"How astute of you to ask. Perchance I'll share my purpose in the future." Monk droned, handing the journal to Errol over his shoulder. The azure eyes seemed the shimmer in the darkness, knowing that there wasn't much of a follow-up to such a remark.

"Perchance after I shove this ridiculously long boot up yer wrinkled old ass, you bald, cunt-stain." Link snapped, patience finally gone. He trembled with barely suppressed rage, the need to retaliate physically almost painful. The thief turned and strode towards the trellis, his mind blank with the intensity of his emotions. The only clear objective was to remove himself from the situation before he did something there was a possibility he should – but wouldn't – regret.

------------

Morning light poured in through the open window, falling over the blonde's face. The eyes squeezed tightly in a stubborn effort to remain asleep. Link finally conceded to the sun's call and lifted the heavy lids from azure orbs. His body protested that miniscule movement. 

_I'll never sit on a horse again if I can help it_. The teen thought as he groaned. His blonde hair was wild from sleep, eyelids still heavy and resisted opening. Pain shot through the insides of his thighs when he shifted, making him cease moving immediately. _Damn Viscen! Damn Chris! Damn Malons! I shoulda never gone back to Houlihan!_

Link massaged his sore muscles lightly, tears of pain springing to his eyes. The only thing the thief could be thankful for was that he'd managed to find a place that he could be alone. It was an old watch post spire settled on top of the East Wing of the mansion, facing the lake. The trapdoor that had lead from the mansion had long since been blocked and only entrance was through the windows.

The blonde had moved in after the riding lesson. The room only had a pallet, blankets, a few pillows and his gear settled against the wall. It was nothing spectacular, but enough for the teen to be pleased. Since he had nothing worth stealing, he didn't fear a break in. The gear he had would be easily tracked down, as gaudy and unique as they were. Viscen still had the sword, which would have been the best thing to sell as non-descript as it was.

—Viscen stared down at the sulking blonde. He'd arrived at the abandoned station to bring the teen back to Chris the morning after the thief had taken the books. Reno had warned the boy that the guardsman was approaching, so he'd met him outside so the Lower Levelers wouldn't get upset. Some things, like dislike for the law, died hard.

"It's yer fault, ya know." The auburn haired man pointed out, dragging his hands through the shoulder length locks. "Had to go prove that you've something between yer ears."

"I gave back yer damn sword! What else do ya want from me? I'm not gonna be yer bag boy!" Link all but whined. That strange presence was in the back of his mind, persistent and nagging, made increasingly cranky. What really upset the thief was that he knew that as long as he was aware of the Triforce within him, he wouldn't be able to just walk away. 

The urgency to go back to the Sages was already receding as he gave it consideration, leaving him feeling drained. How could one want to stubbornly avoid the group but yearn to rejoin them? He detested Monk and Errol with feelings so much stronger than he'd ever thought he was capable of. Mostly because it was exhausting and the teen was far too lazy to exert that much energy. It was far easier to just avoid those who inspired those kinds of taxing emotions.

"How wuz I to know I could read that damned book?" Link groused. It pissed him off more when the black eyes seemed to shimmer with amusement in the dim light.

"Chris's deciphered the next bit ya kindly gave to Monk." The watchman replied, propping a gloved fist on his hip. "Just come back an' listen a bit."—

If Link could help it, he'd never listen to another damn thing the Sages had to say again. He propped his torso up on his elbows, giving the offending legs a dark look. Viscen had him taking the horse, a feisty Malon named Beebe, through its gaits for hours. Getting the stubborn nag to listen to him had been the worst part. 

The guardsman was a slave driver, roaring like an injured dodongo to not saw the reins, keep the elbows up, back straight and butt in the saddle. Link never had an affinity for beasts to begin with and the horse was especially troublesome. 

—The sorrel beast was long legged, a blaze over the wide forehead to soft muzzle. The face was sculpted, looking delicate. The blue eyes wide and bright with malice at the boy who would dare think to mount her. Link ignored the look, sticking his foot in the stirrup and grabbing onto the gullet and cantle, pulling his body up. 

He stood there for a moment, unsure what his next move should be. The mare shifted a little and the teen took the hint, swinging his leg over the seat.

She bucked immediately, throwing him before he could even find his seat. The audience of guards guffawed from the corral's fence. Link scowled, sitting up and wincing at his tender backside. He could tell that their friendship was not going to be a pleasant one. Beebe gave an impatient snort that sounded suspiciously like agreement.

"What're ya waiting fer, boy! Mount up!" Viscen ordered.—

It took some time to work life back into his aching thighs, knowing that if he didn't report to Viscen soon, the guardsman would come looking for him. That was the last thing he needed in the morning was the black-eyed man trying to get a peek of him naked. 

---------------

_Two Weeks Later—_

Link swung the blade down, destroying the third target in the maze. Beebe, resigned to her fate, responded to the urging knees and twisted around so the teen could take down another 'foe.' The guards along the sidelines cheered, though the blonde paid them no heed. All his concentration was on the flesh between his legs and the next target. 

"He's better than that Altair jock." Tris murmured behind Viscen, who kept his black eyes on the teen and his progress. He spared her a glance, a smile twitching on his lips.

"That man couldn' hit a target right at his knee if his horse was standing still." The older man agreed. His eyes slid back to the blonde, face falling back into serious lines. "I just hope it'll be enough."

"Aren' ya bein' a little hard on him? Ya've been at it for nearly two weeks." She pointed out quietly, resting her crossed arms on a post. Her wings were spread, soaking up the sun greedily. A few heads turned, giving the woman catcalls in greeting. She answered with a lush smile, brown eyes sparkling. "Only so much ya kin do."

"There's talent." Viscen countered, but sighed. He knew he was being rough on the lad. The watchman was afraid that if he didn't push, the teen wouldn't be ready. "Just no love. Like giving me a woman…I kin go through the actions, but I wouldn't be happy."

Tris gave a soft chuckle at that, enjoying the taller man's company. "How distressing for you." She teased; looking back at another crack announced the 'death' of another target. "When will you leave?"

"The day after tomorrow. I'll take him past the castle and see if Chris's guess on what the crests are for hold any ground. Then I'll head north while our Mikau does his quest."

"Don't you find it odd that the mudlark has all this on his shoulders?" Tris asked curiously, resting her chin on a bandaged palm to look at the man's face. Viscen was silent, jaw flexing for a moment before he answered.

"If he'd died before now, then yeah. I would." He sighed; breath barely making a sound as it rushed past his barely parted lips. "I've ne'er seen Chris so excited as he was to learn that Mikau could read that book. I had to restrain him before he could turn tha lad inta an experiment. That damn Monk didn' help a lick."

"How did you calm him?" 

"I pointed out that Mikau could gather him more goodies in the field than in his lab." He chuckled lightly along with the Lower Levels woman before lapsing into silence only broken by the careful thuds of hooves and harsh breathing. "That lad has a nasty mouth. I don't think I've been called so many foul things in a row. I think he woulda taken my head off by now if I'd given him half a chance. How's Errol?"

"Still stressed." She admitted, voice tired. She liked the young man on his good days, but the pressure was starting to show. So much pride and usually good-natured, but trying to rely on others was difficult for him. "He'll learn to delegate."

Reno said nothing, listening only a few feet away. His tails twitched listlessly, triangles flicking from the horse to the Sages. There was a lot going on under the surface, he was sure. Yet, there was no way to know who had all the answers. Everyone seemed to hold only a piece and they guarded it closely. 

No matter his worship for the blonde thief, he'd wondered why it was so important for _him_ to complete the tasks where there were those more capable. There were those with more experience and, honestly, more trustworthy than the still growing teen.

The Sages had fixed him, but they wouldn't have bothered if it hadn't been for Link. The fox couldn't see them doing anything that didn't get them anything in return. They demanded so much from Link, but gave little in return. 

He wasn't even sure about the goal of the group of men they were working for. Was it to settle the general chaos of the Post Shift country? Was it just to save the Princess? They didn't seem so noble. Viscen had been the only one to ask over the condition of Narein and general health of the inhabitants.

There were too many questions and no answers forthcoming. The fox found it aggravating and could only guess how Link felt about it. 

Worry ate at the fox's chest, violet eyes hard as he watched the teen put the nag through its paces after destroying the last 'foe.' _I hafta figure this out before too long. Link's not a good pawn. He's more likely to turn on Monk if he keeps tryin' to treat him like slag._

--------------

Omake!

Link woke up in the middle of the night, vaguely concerned on where exactly he was. He could hear gentle, rhythmic breathing in the same room from one other person. There was the hush of the night just outside the walls. The air was cool, a glorious absence of sulfur confirming he was nowhere near the volcano depths. The area where he lay was far too soft to be his pallet at Kakariko. The thief sat up slowly, careful not to disturb the weight just on the left side of the blankets. His back complained, muscles stiff, sore and bruised. His right arm was tucked in a sling and it took him a moment to remember he'd dislocated it.

The azure eyes peered through the gloom, slowly adjusting enough for him to make out sparse furnishings. He was, to his shock, in a real four-poster bed. A shuttered window was over his head, a cool draft slipping through to caress his burned, raw skin lovingly.

"Oh, you're awake." A drowsy voice interrupted the quiet and Link felt a chill run up his spine as he recognized it. He froze, not daring to move as the mattress shifted far more than it needed for a fox. "I was wondering when you would…"

Viscen's voice purred in the darkness and Link went cold. He began to flush as his head turned slowly towards the guardsman, praying he was asleep. The black-eyed man gave a grin and reached out. Link screamed bloody murder, falling over himself to get out of the bed.

"A WHORE IN CHURCH! YOU'RE NAKED!" The teen screeched, tangled in the sheets as he tore out of the room. Viscen watched the thief leave, amusement on his narrow features.

"Darmon was right. It was too much of a joke for the poor boy." The brunette flopped back into bed, sighing in content.

----------

A/N: I took forever and would you believe I only got this chapter written? I know. I'm a bad person. I spent most of my time on the journal, though. I actually put my video games on hold for this. -.- Except Zelda. Lol

However! I've gotten a little bit to look forward to in every chapter! Something to work towards, yay! Sadly, the first part and the Book part were the ones I was looking forward to most in this chapter...which why it took so long to get the rest of it written. Forgive me! 

This chapter has a very rushed, unfinished feeling to it, but I'm not sure how to fix it. Sadly, there's not much to say about the Sages when I think on it. It's all about the Book. Heh. They're just caretakers. The lack of action really chaffs me. The next chapter should relieve that! -


	10. Siege

_The ruins of Dolstrol_

"We need to patrol the area." A husky voice began, the scrawny teen's kneeling body formless beneath the heavy canvas mantle. The right shoulder was visible along the opening, tubes and wires stuck in the tan flesh.

"Yesss…" A high, feminine voice hissed. Long fingers preened the black feathers between the short auburn locks in restless manner. Scarlet eyes watched the thin figure standing on the balcony. The girl had a thin cotton shift over thin shoulders, the hem barely brushing mid-thigh. It wasn't vanity; Kessler just couldn't abide much in the way of clothing since the Shift. "Be careful…they are gathering."

Gold eyes flashed from behind the pair, still on his feet and leaning against the wall. Moonlight barely touched the dull buckles and clasps that held the leather on his still developing body. "Ya kin see 'em marching across tha plains. We should welcome them."

"We may not be able to return." The fourth figure in the sparsely decorated room spoke up from beside the fireplace. The firelight played across the silvery fur, the canine shaped face watching the tall, fidgeting girl with absolute trust. "Their numbers are gathering fast."

"Will you do this…for me?" The girl turned from the view of the ruined city, the single colorless eye focusing on the warm brown ones of Striker, the last speaker. Hask stood in a slow, graceful movement and focused on the same person.

Hask was a little sad to see the devotion that shone in the crouching Striker's face. Reaper turned watched Hask with the same level of loyalty in the wild eyes. There was no question where his trusts lie and it made the white-haired teen nervous.

"I'll get Razer and we'll head out." Hask rasped, feeling tired and dismayed at the uncertain future. There was so much to worry about, to eat away at a person's confidence. The steam gunner often wondered at how wise they were to allow Kessler to lead them. She basked in the obedience of others, seeking to rise herself in their eyes instead of looking out f or the best interests.

Kessler was unfit to lead them. She had the breeding, her parents being fine village elders. Sadly, she had not inherited the brains.

It was Hask's fault for allowing her to rise to such power to begin with.

Hask didn't want that kind of responsibility, but had it nonetheless. The steam gunner always quietly changed orders and led the younger girl in her actions. The other children followed the Shifted girl because Hask did.

_We die because of her foolishness and my cowardice. Please, God. I need help. We all need help. If I openly defy her, we'll divide and perish. Send us salvation._

--

It was strange to have something so large and heavy resting on his skull. He didn't like the feel, just as confining as headgear in the teen's opinion. His hair wouldn't fair well from it either. Link stared at the castle through the whirling, clicking lens. The tool vaguely reminded the teen of the one resting over Houlihan's right eye.

_Except this one is for both eyes and it's not fused to my head._ The thief thought, adjusting his view by twisting the lens. The scene had altered drastically since his hitched ride on the train to the Yards. Beebe shifted a little, the teen making a shushing noise thoughtlessly.

"What do ya shee?" Reno asked, crouched on the teen's shoulder.

"There're five watch towers, one at each corner of the battlements. The river's dried up…the drawbridge is broken in half. The guardhouses are on either side of the drawbridge and a metal gate—"

"Portcullis." Viscen supplied from his side. Link spared the man a glance, still surprised at the man's behavior. Ever since they'd been on the road together, the watchman had reverted to his usual easy-going manner. It was strange,

_Just as touchy as ever, though._ "Hands off my thigh, Viscen. Thanks all tha same, but I'd rather ya kept yer hands to yerself." The thief growled without turning his attention from the land. He ignored the fox's snicker and the guardsman's disappointed sigh. "The town looks empty. There's another set of portcullises on the inner battlements leading to the castle." Link paused, letting the lens roam over the structure. "Tha castle itself has five towers…tha stone's strange…can't really tell tha color. It keeps changen'."

"That's tha effect of tha barrier." Viscen replied, sounding a little bewildered and hinting that he was just parroting what Houlihan or Monk had told him. "Do ya see where tha crests go, then?"

"Yeah. Tha fountain in tha town area."

"That's called a 'bailey,' Mikau." The older man replied, sounding pleased. "Tha barrier is only around the castle. The town is open. When we get tha crests, we'll play in tha ruins more. Let's set up camp away from here."

Link raised the head set from his eyes, arching a gold brow at the man. They were two miles away already. How much further did they have to go? It was really hard for the blonde to perceive the castle as a threat. There wasn't any movement from it, no other sign of life. The barrier was the creepiest thing, but Link assumed that it kept everything _in_ as well as out.

The kit's four tails beat against his shield lazily and the lanky teen gave a one-shoulder shrug of defeat, turning Beebe to follow the taller man. He threw a glance over his shoulder, the castle even less of a threat without the aid of the lens. The land Ganon's Castle was settled on had long been proclaimed cursed ground. Nothing had ever grown there, no animals crossed it and humans in general had avoided it. Link never questioned the phenomenon before; never felt any inclination to test the rumors. He hadn't even cared enough to look in its general direction on the train.

"I'd like ta know how a two-foot ladder would help me there." Link grumbled, remembering the parting scene with Houlihan.

—"It will be useful, apprentice!" Chris insisted, pressing the three-rung ladder into the teen's hands. The pair were getting ready to depart, Chris and Errol coming to see them off. Link had a sneaking suspicion the Mayor only came to see his reaction to the new item.

"How?" The teen demanded, arms crossed over his chest as he stared down the taller man.

"My boy, ladders are endlessly valuable! This one's size makes it convenient to carry and light!" The madman insisted, lens focused on the blonde. Link could feel his twitch returning in full force as he stared. The honest earnest that the older man presented the near useless tool (in Link's eyes), made the situation hilarious.

"I can _step_ that high!" The thief spat, backing away as Chris pressed it to his chest. "Wind and rain! It'll probably break under me!"—

"Ya never know." Viscen called back, hearing the grumble. He turned back, black eyes shining with mirth. "Yer still pretty short."

Link gave a scowl while Reno snickered on his shoulder. "What, pray tell, would you use it fer?"

"Lay it across a trench…across a river…dunno. I wouldn' cast it aside as you had." The watchman pointed out. The blue eyes rolled to heavens, as if to ask for patience.

"I'd need a raft to get across a river, not a ladder. What's tha point of having a trench two feet wide? I can jump that!" The teen scoffed, rubbing a hand over the wedge head to still the panting laughter. "Next ya'd say ya kin use a bug net to yer gain, too."

"Hmmm…A bug net?" The auburn-haired man was silent for a moment. He threw an amused grin over his shoulder. "I'd catch bees, trap them in a jar, an' then set them agains' Unknowns."

The twitch erupted and Link gave the man a disbelieving stare. Reno chirped, body shuddering at his friend's reaction. "That's the most crack-brained idea I've ever heard. I tell ya what, though: if Houlihan gives me one, I'll just pass it on."

The guardsman laughed, waving his hand in agreement. The thief finally realized he was being teased and grumbled, deciding it was best to keep quiet.

Viscen led them a few more miles from Ganon's Castle. Amber light from the failing sun streaking across the sky, lengthening their shadows across the abandoned field they rode through. The ransacked villages of the Nocturne Plains of farmers dotted the grounds about them. Viscen had told Link that they were all empty, that he'd checked for survivors not long after the Shift.

_I wonder what happened to the farmers that lived here? They can't have all Shifted. There were at least a million, if not more, people settled across the plains. It isn't possible for them all to have turned into Unknowns. _Link scratched under the kit's jaw lightly in thought, his azure eyes flicking over the darkening landscape. The stillness distressed the teen, putting him on edge. _Does Viscen feel the same? He's probably used to it, from Narein._

Despite his thoughts, it wasn't exactly true. There was life in the mountain village. Link hadn't noticed it before, but he'd felt it last time. It thrummed in every grain of sand. It was a quiet with the potential to become restful and lazy over time. The atmosphere here was strained, an emptiness cradled in the wispy breezes that brushed against him. It was their second day out and the quiet of the air was already eating at his nerves.

There had been some Unknowns loitering around Kakariko's parameter. Their numbers weren't overwhelming, pretty usual according to the watchman. The population had dwindled as they'd traveled further from the city and Link considered the possibility of a trap. Eyes, suspicious and wary, watched them from trees and ground. Animals or Unknown, the teen didn't know since they never attacked.

It was unnatural and it had the teen's hackles up. It bothered him that the watchman didn't seem to share the same fear. They took turns standing watch through the night, but he seemed too relaxed.

Viscen picked a little cottage that hadn't been burned out, deeming it suitable for their needs and dismounting. They pulled off the saddlebags, dragging them onto the dirty floor. Link cared for the horses while the watchman built a fire in the fireplace, dragging out the thick mattresses from the rooms to lie before the warmth.

They chewed on the hard, thick pieces of cheese and journey bread in silence. Sounds from the night crept into the small hut, as if rejoicing in the return of life.

**Crickets chirping softly, the deep, steady breathes from the steeds. The air was perfumed with scents of crops gone wild. Creatures of the night snuffed about the edges of their camp, their curiosity palpable. The feeling of dusk a fading whisper against his senses.**

The sapphire eyes flicked open, the teen hadn't even been aware they'd closed. Viscen was cleaning his sword, humming quietly. Link flicked the buckles loose that held his own weapon his back. Not borrowed, but his very own sword. Houlihan had given it to him before he'd left.

—Houlihan was uncharacteristically quiet after handing over of the sheathed sword. There was a strange sense of possessiveness that welled inside when he'd first touched the unusual sword. He'd seen the Triforce on his hand glow in answer, as if trying to communicate to the teen. There was knowledge that this blade had a specific mission and it was he who would fulfill it, but he didn't know where the information had spawned.

In spite of the sudden flare of purpose, the sword had felt intriguingly quiet in his grasp, as if it were sleeping. He'd never had any fanciful notions of giving weapons or possessions genders and feelings like most men. The few possessions and tools he'd had as a child had remained just that. There'd been no room for such foolishness in his way of life. To have the sudden urge was strange, but undeniable.

Link pulled the blade free, impressed by the mere whisper of sound it emitted. It was an odd weapon, to say the least. It looked like an average sword, but it seemed far too long and light for a one-handed sword at forty inches. It was a doubled edged blade, the dark gray cross-section hexagonal with no fuller and a curious six-inch section between an engraving of the Triforce and cross guard narrowed and edgeless. A black jewel was fixed where the blade met the cross guard.

"Strange…" Viscen remarked, looking over the teen's shoulder. Link slammed it back home, not wanting to share the treasure with the guardsman. If they thought they were going to take it back once they'd given it to him, they were sadly mistaken. ":Kin I have a gander?"

"No." The blonde snapped, just as shocked by the biting response as the taller man. Chris gave a small smile at the teen's back, green eye and lens locked on the boy's reaction. "It's _mine_."—

If it weren't for the persisting notion that the sword was i_his_/i, Link would have avoided it all together. It brought up more questions that were beginning to crowd the teen's mind.

He'd accepted it, but he was unsure he wanted to know what it truly represented. At least it hadn't needed sharpening.

"We'll part paths tomorrow." Viscen informed the boy, sheathing the blade with a raspy whisper. The teen's eyes jerked up; surprised he'd completely forgotten where he was. "I'm heading up ta Zora's Domain."

"What's a Zora?" the blonde asked, brows drawn together in confusion at the new word.

"Remember tha fountain at Stalfos T and T?" The watchman asked. Link nodded affirmative and the dark haired man gave a satisfied smile. "Those are Zoras."

"I just thought someone sucked wit' a hammer and chisel." The teen admitted, frowning at the memory at the strangely molded mermaids. It disturbed him a little to realize that they were real creatures.

"They did that." The watchman conceded, glancing into the fire. "Think ya'll be ok by yerself?"

"Cut yer apron strings, I'll be fine. I have Reno, which is more than you." The blonde grumbled, not like being fretted over. The older man grinned, black eyes reflecting the flames.

"True, that."

--

"What's tha matter?" Link asked, frowning as the fox shook his head. Viscen and him had parted company at dawn, turning north as Link continued east. Link was armed to the teeth, his pack empty under his shield. There was no telling when their luck would turn, as Reno had pointed out earlier that morning.

The fox had been dozing on his shoulder through the morning and afternoon, preparing to take the first watch when Link set up camp. The sun was preparing to set over the western horizon, throwing their shadows along the hill they were climbing.

"Dunno. There'z Unknownsh…" He shook the wedge head again, as if trying to rid his ears of the sound. It was a jumbled roar in his head, indistinct and harsh. It made him uneasy. "It'sh like hearin' tha market, but from a wayz away."

Link crested the hill, wondering over the fox's words. Beebe reared, her neigh harsh and barely equestrian as it tore from the long throat. Link cursed, grabbing the reins to try to still the prancing beast. Reno shifted nervously on the thin shoulder, hind claws clutching onto the shield's edge to keep steady. Jumping crossed the fox's mind, but he didn't want to be separated from the teen if the horse took off.

"What's this nag's problem!" Link snapped, wondering if he should just abandon the troublesome beast. As the thought flitted through the teen's mind, the horse bolted, thundering down the rise at a gallop.

Link leaned back, bracing his feet in the stirrups to have more leverage on the reins. The mare's head pulled a little, but she shook her head roughly for relief. The azure eyes widened in shock, realizing that she had the bit in her teeth. The thief cursed again, clutching with his knees and hunching close, resting his cheek against the sweaty neck to avoid the lashing mane. His feet weren't in the stirrups any longer, but tucked under the cantle, griping his seat in panic.

The rocky, grass littered ground blurred beneath the flashing hooves, allowing any thought of vaulting off to be torn in the frantic horse's wake. Eyes slit against the screaming wind, the teen focused forward—and immediately wished he hadn't.

Since the beast had panicked as soon as they'd topped the rise, Link's attention had been absorbed in trying to control Beebe and not on the landscape. What lay before him was the remains of Dolstrol.

Most of the north side of the city was covered in hardened lava. The fires, melting whatever couldn't be incinerated, had ravished the south end of Dolstrol. What were left were warped skeletons giving little hint to the original splendor of the once bustling city.

Curiously untouched in middle of the twisted remains of the mass funeral pyre was a mansion much like the Mayor's. A tall wall and sweeping yard segregated it from the rest of the city, which obviously led to its survival.

Milling about the sanctuary were thousands of thousands of clockwork Unknowns, moblins, bokoblins, butablins and bulbins. They were like mangy dogs, disorganized but just as feral. It was clear they were laying siege on the decimated city, but the thief couldn't wrap his mind around why.

There was a knot of action near the edge of the magma's edge, the excited chirps and cries of the moblins reaching him on the streaming wind. In order to identify the source of the Unknown's excitement would involve diving into the fray and fighting his way towards it. The teen had no intentions on entering it, but the maddening beast wasn't giving him much choice in the matter.

Malons were known for their endurance and speed. Deep chests and lean, long bodies; their strong, fine legs ate ground up mercilessly, the angled hips and lean muscles giving them good stamina. They did possess obstinate personalities and had a low tolerance for poor riders, which made Link one of the worst candidates to mount up.

_Which is why I can't control the curst nag now! Damnit! _The teen pulled his blade free with his left hand, holding it aloft at an angle as he'd been taught. He couldn't control the animal, couldn't stop it. He'd no choice but to go along for the ride.

The nag's blowing breathes rose over the steady cries of the Unknowns, who were too stupid to turn and see the thief bearing down on them. Link spared a passing thought of relief that he'd thought ahead for once in equipping his weapons. He'd be in worse trouble if all his gear were in the saddlebags. If he needed to abandon the sodden creature, there was too good of a chance Beebe would fall to the enemy, everything attached would be lost.

He could feel Reno clutching onto his shoulders through the mail. The teen hoped he didn't lose the kit when the nag finally leapt over the front line. They soared over the bald, scaly heads, the teen glancing down to stare down at the uncomprehending black eyes of his foes. Link's teeth clicked together at the jarring landing. Squeals of protests and pain rose as Beebe's sharp hooves cracked a couple of skulls in the process. The muscles beneath his body coiled together, power trembling through the powerful haunches as the mare leapt forward into a mad canter despite the bodies she brushed aside.

They crashed through the throng with a frantic trumpet from Beebe. The sword swung down automatically, the blade ripping through the first few clueless Unknowns and leaving a wake of ashes. Link dropped the reins, not seeing much point in trying to steer the stupid creature and concentrated on staying in the saddle. His knees rose to squeeze against the pommel, wanting to keep his legs from being caught in the stirrups or injured. It was against everything that Viscen had drilled into the filcher's head, but so was thundering into a hopeless situation.

The Unknowns finally were aware of the pair and turned their snarling attentions to the horse that ploughed through their ranks. Chaos erupted as the thief ashed their comrades in quick succession. Beebe, no longer in an uncontrolled rush, was now crushing through the wave of Unknowns with a single-mindedness that was unusual.

Link's sword made steady sweeps, eyes flicking about his surroundings systematically. The horse squealed and snapped at the Unknowns pressing against her sides. Forward movement was no longer an option, pinned in by the moblins and their ilk. She whirled and reared, striking out with sharp hooves.

The blonde winced, hooking his right around the pommel to stay in his seat as he drove the blade into the skull of a bulbin with a raised axe. It was too risky to stay with the horse and he was mostly reluctant to part because she was an effective means of transportation than any love.

The fox surveyed the battle around them with wide violet eyes, trying to make sense of the madness and warn Link of any immediate threats. He needed to find them an opening, anything so they could escape the fray. Survival was priority as far as the fox was concerned.

Beebe squealed in pain, her red blood spraying as a moblin found its mark with the spear. The scent of her blood blossomed in the air, sending the Unknowns into frenzy to demand more. Sweat broke out over Link's flesh, freezing and burning at the same time as panic threatened to overwhelm him. Something held it at bay, but it was like a flood…inevitable and just as deadly.

"That fight! Get there! There'sh a group of fighterz there!" Reno barked, struggling to keep hold on the jostling body.

"Get over there first! Cripes! You've better chance of maken' it first!" Link growled, waiting for the fox to catapult off his shoulder and threw his body from the struggling mare. As he left, Beebe collapsed under the fray, roaring in pain and fear as they began to feast on her still living body until they crushed her delicate skull.

A bokoblin raised its heavy bone club, cawing in victory at the sight of the flying blonde. Link grabbed onto his sword in a two handed grip, the blade head over his head. The teen's teeth bared in frustration at the fact that i_nothing_/i seemed to go as planned. The sword arched down to crack through the bone and crushing the foolish bokoblin's skull.

The dust exploded around him, masking his form. The moblins and bokoblins that were clustered around stared in shock, unsure of the next move. Link burst from the cloud, sweeping the blade up in a two handed grip, taking out five before they could grasp their situation.

The thief blocked a hasty swing, brushing the machete aside to behead the bulbin and dance through the skirmish. He didn't think, didn't bother to try. There wasn't much to the hack and slash fighting style he'd adapted to. The Unknowns couldn't coordinate fast or well enough to even touch the lightning fast teen. He whirled and roared, creating a path in the increasingly unpredictable fray.

Worry resided in the back of his mind, concerned with how long his luck would actually last. A breath-stealing blow on his shield jarred the blonde from the battle-lust, reminding him that he needed to get to safe ground.

"THISH WAY!"

Reno's cry cut through the frantic noises of the Unknown and Link started to battle his way to the fox. He twisted under a wild swing, driving the blade through a bulbin's chest. The ash settled, leaving a small party visible, though only the boy immediately in front of the teen widened scarlet eyes in startled acknowledgment. There were two others, ivory and ebony colored hair, respectively. A brunette lay on the ground in the middle, obviously injured but Link couldn't tell how badly.

A bulbous-bodied clockwork Unknown jumped from the crowd, aiming for the distracted boy's side. Link moved thoughtlessly, gliding over the space between and neatly severing the bladed arm the jointed shoulder. Gears grinded and the thief jammed his weight against the struggling Unknown to knock it back. A hissing snap registered to the long ears a moment before a hot stream of air whooshed passed his face, the object leading the way tearing through the Unknown's metal skull and left ashes.

Link jerked around, shocked to see a long barreled steam gun pointed in his direction. Wisps of steam floated around the boy's arm from where it was braced against his shoulder, the round, pale face set in hard lines. Link smirked and turned, pitching back into the advancing battle.

The Unknowns were too easy, falling beneath his new blade to settle back to the earth. He cut through the organics, the steam gunner taking down the clockworks without any hesitation. He left the shield on his back, since he wasn't sure he could help from being overwhelmed in the melee and needed the extra protection.

"We need ta get inside the walls!" A high, strained voice cut through the frantic thrills and cries of the fleshy Unknowns. Link didn't know who spoke, dispensing of a pig-faced moblin before answering.

"Any ideas?" The teen threw over his shoulder.

"Over the flow!" A curiously husky voice shouted at his back.

"Kessler said—" The first began, a canine-like whine touching along the edges of the young voice. A harsh bark cut it off.

"HA! Rot Kessler!" The new voice was high and carefree in a deceptively childish way. "Let yer balls drop, Striker! Kessler's not tenden' tha wolves!"

"Razer—!" Striker began. The filcher turned sharply, seeing the ivory-headed boy speaking. He had to be a couple of heads shorter than Link, half-Shifted with a dog. The nose protruded only enough to be noticeable, a slight dusting of black frosted fur over his cheeks. The soft triangles on either side of his head were set a little higher, flat along the creamy hair in distaste. A staff whirled in his hand, knocking back a bokoblin that got too close to the girl on the ground. "We cain' leave her!"

"Then nab her! Yer leaving yer back open, ya great empty-headed dog!" The wild voice snapped, making Striker stiffen and bare his long teeth in reply. Link winced at a glancing blow across his shielded back, turning back to the fight at hand.

"Grab Razer, head over the flow! Reaper, you and—" The steam gunner began and the long-eared blonde threw a look over his shoulder to see the blood colored eyes zeroed in on him.

"Shep!" He supplied, jerking his face away from the burst of ash.

"—clear a path! I'll cover our backs!" The boy finished, beheading a bulbin with the blade fixed under the gun.

"Rex!" Link yelled over the chaos, not liking how the Unknowns were beginning to thin out, despite the healthy number still surrounding them. The fox probably had a better idea on why the sudden decline. He caught a flash of ginger through the churning legs of retreating Unknowns.

"Tha clockworksh, bulbinz, bokoblinz, moblinz are fallen' back an' shwampen' tha wallsh!" Reno's disembodied voice cried back. "A wave of butablinz iz shweepin' in! Tha leader'z here, Shhep! He'sh regroupin' them!"

Link dispatched another bulbin and turned, able to easily surmise Reaper's identity. The shaggy ebony haired boy with gold eyes had a feral grin that showed long canines. A heavy, tall scythe was in the metal backed hands, metal claws standing out over the knuckles. The five foot curved blade had teeth rotating along its edges, the grinding whine Link had been hearing coming from the base of the blade where steam spewed. Black leather was buckled tight over the slim torso and legs; leaving white arms marked with delicate swirls of black metal embedded in flesh. The feet were bare, the tops protected in the same fashion as the metal coated hands.

The azure eyes blinked when they met the gold, the orbs seeming to swirl with innocent lust. He turned from the confusing contradiction, finding the steam gunner watching him. He cleared his throat. "Whatever we're doin', better do it now." He pointed out needlessly.

Striker had already thrown Razer's body over his shoulder, the lull in the fighting giving them precious moments to form up. Link took place just behind Reaper, out of reach of the weapon. Their eyes met for a brief moment and the blonde felt another uncomfortable chill race up his spine.

"Lead tha way, Reaper."

"Best stay outta my way, mudlark!"

Reaper started the charge, his scythe sweeping in wide arcs, clearing them an ash lined path with effortless strokes. The grinding teeth ate through the clockworks and flesh alike with ease, the thin lips never twitching. Though the boy's fighting style was effective, it left him open with each strike. Viscen had been drilling the teen too long for Link to not pick at the imperfections and disdain for having to pick up the slack.

The Unknowns that had been retreating didn't hesitate to turn and fight back, trying to take advantage of the vulnerabilities.

"Cripes! Yer more open then a Lower Level whore!" Link growled, swinging the blade up to crush the throat of a quick-footed bulbin.

"This comin' from a jock—" he blocked a machete swipe with the long handle, twisted the weapon away and arched the scythe down to rend the bokoblin in half. There was a playful taunt in the high voice, though strain played along the edges as he continued to swing unhindered. "—who wears a green dress!"

"It'sa tunic, ya leather-tussed cracknob!" The teen snapped back, a smile just as crazed stretching his lips. The green blood from the Unknowns decorated the pair's clothing and skin, the owners bursting to ashes beneath the their strikes. The thief found it impossible to not be caught up in the fever of the fight.

Link had his hands full taking care of those pressing into the cleared paths. He kept the sword in a two handed grip, eyes roaming for the next target before the last had finished ashing. The hissing snap of the gun set up the rhythm, Reaper's cry of triumph announcing their arrival to the flow.

The thief almost stumbled with the sudden absence of enemies. His azure eyes jerked up, scanning the black, desolate ground warily, his mind unable to accept the lack of targets. The path was clear, the Unknowns had yet to occupy the lava that had hardened into a rippling, sloping casing over the ground. The thief found this curious, but decided to dwell more on why later. The four made good time, angling towards the battlements. Link didn't hide his surprise when the shorter Striker pulled ahead, despite his burden.

"Avalanche! Drop the ladder!" The steam gunner roared when they were a few hundred yards from the wall. A scruffy head peered over, turning to yell something unintelligible that started pandemonium along the ramparts. The scarlet eyes flicked to Link and Reaper, thin lips pressed tight. "We'll hold off tha rest so Striker can get Razer up."

Link felt his face harden at the thought of being stuck in the middle of battle longer than expected. He wanted to be where it was safe; not holding off an attack for children he barely knew. The steam gunner watched him, face unreadable as he took in the teen's reaction. The long jaw clenched, but he pulled his shield from his back in response.

_What's tha point of goin' from one fight to another? Cripes! I'd turn tha whole bastion agains' me. Not that I think much of adults senden' babes ta do their job._ The blonde thought in mild agitation, misgivings touching the back of his mind. Risking his neck for strangers seemed to be a recurring theme as of late. He turned his gaze back towards the advancing horde. They were all moblins, all at least a foot taller and pink with grayish-green flesh and boorish features, tusks protruding from thick lips and small black eyes. His hand tightened on the new sword, seeking comfort in the unyielding metal. _At least this fight will be more of what I'm used to…_

Reaper and the other boy fanned out, giving Striker enough cover to start climbing the rope ladder that was unfurled. The bitter unfairness of being stuck on the ground and the fear of the approaching battle became steadily muted, though the teen couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why. There was no pressing need to discover, either. The worries and fears felt almost petty, so he allowed them to fade.

Reno streaked across the uneven ground, a ginger and silver blur. He noticed the white haired boy move to aim his gun towards the approaching fox, but motioned for him to halt. The steam gunner complied, crimson orbs questioning until the kit clamored up the teen's arm to settle on the shoulder.

"They're shwamping za wallz!" He gasped into the long ear, trying to regain his breath and update him at the same time. "They'll top 'em shoon! It'll be a bloodbafh!"

"When it rains…" The blue-eyed teen muttered with a wince.

"It pourz!" Reno finished, leaping off Link's shoulder so he wouldn't hinder the thief's movements.

Link's jaw tightened, setting into the stance that Viscen had drilled into him: shield up and sword back, ready to swing in an upwards slice, vertical cut, horizontal sweep, or a sharp stab. He twirled the blade thoughtlessly, a nervous gesture that he hadn't known he'd possessed. He was eager for action with the long, well crafted and strangely familiar blade in his hand. The moblins had pole arms, longer reach but it left them open much the same way Reaper's scythe did. They also lacked any type of armor, their privates barely concealed and ridiculously large skull lavalieres about their necks.

They didn't have a wall set up so, their defense would be weak and ineffective against the charging Unknowns. They were so overwhelmed in means of physical strength and numbers that the long-eared teen wanted to laugh hysterically.

"Get up that wall, dog-boy!" Link roared, his boots grinding against the flows as he braced his body for the shock. The dieing light bathed them all in a ruddy orange glow, glittering off sharp, tempered metal and setting the humans in stark relief. The steam gunner was already popping off shots, Reaper twirling his scythe as he prepared to charge the line.

Link jammed his shield into the ground before him, grabbing the boomerang from the small of his back. A long distance weapon like a steam gun or a bow would be nice. Sadly, he only had a slingshot and boomerang. His clawshot wouldn't be much…

_Wait! I'm such an idiot!_ The blonde ground his teeth together, not believing how long it took him to remember the clawshots. He holstered the boomerang, sheathed his sword and hooked the shield on his back, earning curious looks from the two boys.

"HASK! REAPER! GET YER TAILS UP HERE!" A new female screech cut through the approaching thunder of hundreds of feet pounding against the hardened flow. Reaper and Hask turned, heading towards the rope ladder.

"Get up there, Hask!" Reaper yelled, slamming the scythe onto the holder on his back. They were still a hundred yards from the wall, but closing quickly.

The white haired boy hissed, teeth bared as he shook his head sharply. "Ya muscle-head! Ya know I cain' move up that thing fast one handed!"

That's when the thief noticed, with a bit of astonishment, that the steam gun was attached just under the boy's right elbow, tubes running from the bicep and shoulder into the appendage. Thin lips pursed and he angled to the boy, grabbing his extra clawshot as he jammed his left hand into his other.

"Catch!" He ordered, tossing it to Hask. The crimson eyes widened but did out of reflex, staring down at the clawshot in a bewildered way. "Put it on yer hand! Aim and then push all the buttons! It'll yank ya straight up!"

Link held it up, aiming as he ran, breath coming in harsh gasps. He felt Reno clamor up his shoulder to clutch to him desperately. The claw shot from the device, latching onto the wall and yanking the teen off his feet. He slammed into the wall, scrambling over before he released the trigger and Reno jumped onto the stone walk. He heard a metallic clank of Hask following his instructions. Ignoring the startled children scrambling away, Link pivoted and shuffled down the walkway and grabbed onto Hask's arm.

"Release the thumb trigger!" The blonde ordered, wincing at the sudden shifting of weight. He could feel the intense heat rising from the steam gun, wafting into his face and stinging his eyes. He pulled the boy over the wall and into the battlements, shocked at the sheer weight of steam gunner.

Hask fell onto the Link as he flopped back, tangled together and breathing hard. There was a rasp and thump, announcing Reaper's arrival. The lanky teen untangled from the steam gunner, eyes flicking about to make sense of the chaos along the wall. No one within sight had even reached puberty. Yet the children were rushing about, yanking up the rope ladder and carrying the wounded Razer away.

A girl with short auburn hair with gold feathers growing among the floating strands stepped towards him; her only visible eye was near colorless and unnerving to look at. She was a head shorter than him, but seemed unconcerned about her disadvantage. She walked in a strange, jerking grace he would expect from a bird. She flowed through the running children, eye not leaving his.

"You are?" She snapped and he identified her as the screamer from the wall. Her voice was high and breathy, as if it took too much effort to form the words with her mouth. The blonde was prepared to answer, he really was, but the air was suddenly thick with panic and pre-mature screams.

"They're breeching za wallz! Three groupsh along za curtain!" Reno's voice cried over the pitch, causing the teen to turn thoughtlessly and charge down the walkway. Children in shoddy armor ran past him, Link drawing his boomerang as he watched the first squashed face of a bulbin peeked over the stone rise. He let it loose, fierce pleasure blooming in his chest as the head snapped back and the body crashed down on the stacked Unknowns. He caught the weapon easily, eyes skimming over the edge to make sure they weren't regrouping.

The unexpected attack seemed to throw the entire group of Unknowns into turmoil. The group tripped over themselves to retreat as the young ones on the wall began to attack with crossbows and steam guns. Their accuracy was shocking, all of the targets bursting into ashes and creating more disorder below.

The thief charged on, ignoring the burning of his parched throat and heaviness of his limbs. He drew his sword as a bokoblin slipped over the walls despite the children's best efforts to keep them down. A little girl no more than eight went down with an ear-piercing shriek as the bokoblin split her belly, the reek of her bowels clogging the air.

Bile threatened to choke him, but Link set his teeth against the pity for the stranger. He would mourn her later, but remorse would only allow the Unknown more of a chance to send more along her path. He threw the boomerang again, knocking the pinched, ugly face with gold eyes back roughly. He slid as he caught the boomerang with his free hand, sweeping his blade to cut through the exposed neck.

He holstered the weapon, digging into the bomb bag at his waist and pulling out the fist sized explosive. He jerked off the striker with his teeth, lighting the fuse. He dropped it down, watching it roll down the Unknowns clutching on to another in a stepladder fashion. He started running for the last group, hearing the thunderous boom of the explosive letting loose. The wall trembled under the force and the children screamed in shock.

_CRIPES! He wasn' jokin' when he said those things were powerful_! The teen thought in fear tinged awe. He slid to a stop, unable to ignore the impulse to look behind him. A fine cloud of dust was in the faint light, making him wonder just how many died under the blast.

The loud noise and sudden massacre seemed to be too much for the bulbins, bokoblins, and butabins. They all scattered, chirping and shrilling in fear. A cheer rose from the walls, the children still firing despite their belief of the victory. The blonde wanted to join them, but he found that he could barely hold his body upright by pressing his back against the wall regardless of the equipment poking his back.

His head reeled and floated, seemingly no longer on his shoulders as he let it drop limp on his neck. He braced his arms against his knees, memorizing the patterns on the stone while he tried not to black out. It was undignified for someone who just saved a keep to keel over in front of everyone. It was bad enough he was trembling like a leaf in the wind from the aftermath. The lids shuttered the cobalt eyes, giving him brief respite.

—Blood sprayed across the stone, as red as Hask's eyes. The child's scream was shrill as it met his ears, wordless and pain filled. The too small hands grasped at the split belly, trying to gather her innards as she fell to her knees. Her body flopped back as he rushed past, violet eyes streaming tears.—

His eyes sprang open and he gritted his teeth as he rose and trotted down the wall, spitting onto the greasy remains of the Unknowns to rid his mouth of the bad taste dwelling there. He made his way to the girl still lying on the ground, breathing in short gasps. He knelt down, careful to keep out of the puddle of blood and vomit that surrounded her. He pulled out the flask of red potion from his belt, pulling off the cork with his teeth. He tilted the small head up, cupping the back of the thin neck.

"Come on, gilly! Drink!" He hissed, pressing the lip against the slowly paling lips. The violet eyes, flicked to Link, looking, but no really seeing. The throat worked as the liquid pooled. Link avoided looking at the tiny, scarred hands clutching her innards. "That's-a-gilly…"

The small mouth gaped lazily and the violet eyes were half hooded, soft brown locks clinging to the tears and spittle on the pale skin. The eyes dimmed, the blonde feeling helpless as the life continued to slip from the dying flesh. The potion dribbled from the corners of her mouth, splattering on the dirty stone walk. Two young girls clutched on another nearby, sobbing noisily and hiding their faces, as it if would somehow make the scene less real.

Death was nothing new to Link. People died all the time in the Lower Levels. He'd been to executions. The death of the horse he'd been taking care of for weeks. He'd seen the ghosts of the Lower Levels floating over the lake.

This had been different. He was angry. Frustrated that he couldn't make it in time to save her. That he'd frozen in that small instant that probably cost the girl her young life. What if he'd thrown the boomerang sooner? What if he'd been quicker to get back to her?

_What's wrong with me? I didn' even know tha gilly…She wasn't mine to protect. It wasn't my fault!_ He reached out and closed the staring eyes, wondering how many others died. He stared at the empty bottle; jaw tightening in aggravation before tucking it back in his belt.

He heard feet approaching and straightened, eyes hard as sapphires as he looked over the bird woman, Hask, Reaper and Striker. A familiar weight settled on his shoulder, warm fur pressing against his neck in an almost comforting manner.

"Yer blade…sheath it." The girl demanded, her words still strange to his ears. She wore a loose shift over her small, thin frame. A leather belt accenting her small waist and holding a rapier and steam gun on either side of her hips. Her hands looked strange and it took a moment to realize that the fingers had an extra joint, her nails more like talons. Her right eye was covered with dirty bandages that covered most of her forehead and the back of her head.

The teen looked down at the girl, a little frown forming between his brows at the order. _That's almost funny. She thinks she kin tell me what ta do_.

"You are?" He rasped her previous question through his raw throat, lips tugged in a grimace. When had he been screaming? He didn't remember doing it during the fight.

"Yer in my nest." She hissed, the feathers in her hair actually bristling, making her look a ridiculous enough that he managed to crack a mocking smile. The only visible eye narrowed in a manner that was clearly supposed to be threatening, but managed the opposite.

"This is Shep." Hask replied before Link could give her a sarcastic answer. His bloody eyes unreadable as he watched the thief. "Shep, this is Kessler. Our leader."

Reaper rolled his eyes behind the pair, his reaction showing his opinion of that last remark. Striker didn't have to say anything; Link could sense the growl that dwelled down the thick throat. Where the scythe wielder held no love for the girl, Striker seemed to be loyal to a fault. Hask had an accepting air about him, as if the boy could care less either way.

"Why were yooou in tha field?" Kessler asked, her fingers reaching up and preening the glossy feathers restlessly. Her head tilted forward and to the side, the almost invisible iris peering up at him.

"Rex here…" He angled his head against the fox gently to indicate whom he spoke of. "Saw that they were in trouble. I wuz already surrounded an' saw no harm in helpin' out." That wasn't the whole truth, but it was more believable than his horse taking off and forcing him _into_ the battle.

"Kessler…" A boy tugged at her shift, dark eyes haunted as he looked back and forth between Link and the bird girl. "We need ta get'er body, beggin'."

Kessler's eye softened and she gave a jerky nod before motioning for Link to follow. "We'll talk…inside. Call in tha next watch." Kessler told a boy at the wall. Large brown eyes jerked up in surprise, relief clear on the dirty face at the order. Kessler patted the oily hair awkwardly. "Get some rest spread it down the wall?"

Kessler took cues from Hask as she spoke to the children. They trotted down the stairs and into the sprawling lawn. Children ran back and forth between the wounded and dead laid out. Link picked out only a handful of teens. They held the children back from panic by giving clear and concise orders as they repaired those they could save.

The blonde couldn't help but be impressed by how well everyone worked together. The plague had been his only example of different groups putting aside most of their differences to accomplish something. It made him wonder how much the entire lot had been through to forge such seamless cooperation. Children were children, no matter how one looked at it. They tended to become lost in their play, fall into laziness or acted out for attention.

They walked down the battlements, Hask and Kessler pausing to whisper to the children who trembled beside the walls while others ran back and forth to clean up the dead and wounded. Some eyes were haunted, while others were curiously blank. The teen felt a shiver run up his spine, wondering at what would jade children so young.

This group didn't seem the norm in the least.

--

A/N: Geez, I'm fired. This story has run away and I'm still trying to catch up. The chapters keep getting longer! To avoid another uber-long chapter, I've split this one in half.

I've been writing the chapters while I'm at work. Sadly, this means it's all in a notebook since I don't have e-mail available at work. I have to type it when I get home. I am getting more done now. My job has been keeping me pretty drained when I get home. Mass Effect is how I relieve my stress…but it gives me strange dreams. Moving on! I'll have the rest of the chapter up next week. With any luck, I'll be finished with the following chapter after that.

All the Unknowns are straight from all the games. You can Wiki them.

Can anyone guess the theme of the names in this chapter? -


	11. The Lost One

The point of views will switch between Hask, Edge, Reno and Link. I'm sorry if this causes any confusion. I know it did at the beginning of the last one.

--

"Kessler. I need ya fer a breath." A girl called from Razer's side. Link spared the healer a glance, the thick braid trailing in the dirt that was dusty grass green and large eyes the color of a cloudless sky. Long ears were bared, her thin lips in a tight line.

Kessler shot Hask a glance before following the order. The blonde flicked his gaze at the boy, who looked troubled as he watched the bird-girl. The scarlet orbs found the azure and blinked, all expression draining before turning to Reaper and Striker.

"We'll leave Kessler to Edge." The steam gunner rasped. Link blinked until he realized that Edge was the healer. "Reaper, Striker…you take the south wall. Shep and I will take the north. Make sure the watch has changed and there aren't any more Unknowns lurking near the walls."

Striker looked as if he wanted to argue, the icy blue orbs darting to where Kessler was crouched. He sighed heavily, glaring at Reaper before nodding in compliance. Reaper gave a shrug, hand reaching up to stroke the staff of his scythe lovingly. The pair turned away, leaving Link and Hask.

The steam gunner jerked his head towards the wall before turning and picking his way through the bodies that lay out in the dirt. The thief sighed, reaching up to stroke Reno's jaw before following. The thief didn't want to follow the boy's orders, but there didn't seem like much else to do.

He could just sit in the middle of the makeshift hospice like a lump. He suspected he'd be put to work if he did. If he were on top of the ramparts, he could see the lay out of the grounds and get an idea on what he was working with outside the walls. Leaving was pretty enticing also. However tempted he was to do so, it wouldn't give him any answers. _Why is Ganon interested in babes? Doesn't make much in the way of sense._

_Oooh…The Hero is straying dangerously close to acting in an intelligent manner! Perhaps the world_ is _ending!_ His inner Monk mocked, teasing a slight twitch from the teen.

_Anything to shut yer yapper, old man. _Link thought in annoyance, ignoring the impulse to rub his temples. The fact he was in the middle of a possible siege was bad enough without arguing with himself.

"Don'tcha wanna use tha stairs?" Link blurted when he realized they were headed towards a wooden ladder leaning against the wall. The steam gunner threw a scowl over his shoulder, letting his gun arm drop before he scurried up the ladder faster than the teen thought possible.

The short boy stared down at him from the ramparts, a smirk on the thin lips. The dying light threw the thin face into stark relief, milky strands soaking up the darkness. "The stairs are needed by the wounded. I can hold my own when the ladder doesn't move, Shep. Get your tail up here."

The blonde gave a crooked smile, deciding the white-haired boy was more than a little odd and clamored up. The rungs creaked ominously beneath his weight, the thief questioning if it could handle the strain.

Link followed Hask down the walkway, eyes scanning inside the walls curiously. A herd of ten goats grazed in the coral along the far southeast corner of the yard. The majority of the northern space between the wall and mansion was converted into weapons training area. Hacked pieces of furniture lay about the area, riddled with holes and scorch marks. A struggling vegetable garden took up most of the east side, where it had the most light throughout the day.

_They have an impressive setup. They couldn' have done it all themselves, though. Where are the adults? _The thief wondered with a frown, gaze traveling over the ruins outside the wall as they rounded the corner onto the east wall. Shouts rose into the air, disrupting the teen's musings.

Hask cursed, taking off towards the struggling figures a few hundred feet away. Link snarled and followed suit, his body protesting against the sudden burst of activity. It wanted to rest and sadly, it appeared that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

Striker and Reaper were screaming at one another, the children on watch struggling to hold them back. Hask skidded to a halt as he neared the group, yelling for the two to stop fighting. The blonde slowed to a walk, disgusted with the display. They had all appeared far more mature before. Where the young ones did as they were asked without question during chaotic and frightening times, the elders couldn't seem to keep their act together.

Perhaps it should be expected. Not everyone could handle the pressure of having so many look to him or her when they were just as uncertain. The stress was obviously starting to get to the scythe and staff wielder. Doubtless, it didn't help that they probably had a volatile relationship to begin with.

Link turned away from the fight and towards the ruins. The blue eyes roamed restlessly over the scenery. Darkness and shadows had gathered, clinging to everything stubbornly in spite of the stars gathering in the sky. The teen blinked as a shadow shifted, an odd glint among the destruction. The strange glint flashed and Link was moving before he'd even realized what it was.

"GIT DOWN!" He roared, pulling off his shield and holding it up just as the arrow dinged against it. Children screamed and complied, covering their heads. Shock was written over Hask's face as he scooted up to the edge of the wall and held his gun arm close to his chest. Their eyes met, Link's grim. "Three archers. Straight ahead."

The head bobbed, lips tightening in concentration. The teen closed his eyes, listening. The children weren't screaming anymore, but their breathing was heavy with fear. There weren't many archers, but the darkness made it that much more frightening. If they'd been standing a proper watch, they probably would have caught the movement of the boblins moving in. There wasn't much cover on the east side.

Shouts sounded down the wall, the hissing snap of steam guns announcing more archers had made their move. Link wondered how prepared the others were to deal with the sudden onslaught. There weren't any screams of pain to announce a wounded child, but beyond that the teen was clueless of the outcome.

His free arm tingled unbearably and shot up, hand closing around an arrow shaft to snatch it out of the air. His eyes opened and he stared at it for a moment before dropping it. Striker and Reaper were watching him, but Hask's eyes were on the land. The gun barked three times, slow and calculated.

The children with crossbows and steam guns followed suit, scanning the area and firing at the advancing wave. Link lowered his shield, watching the onslaught turn to chaos as the Unknowns turned tail as more of their fellows turned to ash. The clockwork Unknowns continued with a single-mindedness that lost them whatever kind of life they possessed.

Hask pressed against his side, the blood-colored eyes staring into the blue. A small smile quirked the boy's thin lips as he nodded to the teen's hand still clutching the arrow. "We need to get you a long range weapon."

--

Link rested his arm on an upraised knee, staring out the open window he was perched in. There were just enough cushions to make the seat comfortable, the window pushed open since the glass had warped from the heat. It wasn't much of a view, considering he was only on the second floor. Enough to see over the walls, but the candles at his back made it hard to pick out the details beyond the yard. He could pin point the campfires of the Unknowns spread along the ruined city. The fires glowed eerily off the walls of the deformed buildings, throwing long, dancing shadows of the Unknowns.

A child was feeding their small herd of Luna goats, letting the beast drag her about the pin while she clung to the horns. They obviously got their milk from them. The vegetable garden that had been planted in haste would only support them for so long. Their well was clean and deep, but they were starting to hurt for supplies. The coming winter would surely kill them all.

However bad he may feel for them, he really didn't want to help them out. It wasn't cowardice holding him back, but the simple trouble that the pack of orphans presented. The Unknowns holding the siege had completely encircled their little haven and made safe escape for everyone impossible.

Reno jumped onto his shoulder, Link starting a little. He hadn't even heard the fox approach. The kit draped his body over the shoulder, violet eyes peering through the darkness.

"It seems a bit far-fetched that a group of orphans could survive here for as long as they did." Link started, feeling a soft triangle flick back towards his soft voice to show attention. "What happened to tha elders? Nuthen I see should hold much ground. There's more to the story."

The fox didn't answer, thinking that it was a little too convenient also. The nag's behavior had been unsettling and Reno was suspicious of the reason for the uncharacteristic bolt. Horses weren't soldiers. They had to be trained to enter battle, to fight with their riders. Beebe hadn't been trained for that. She'd too light to be an effective warhorse, so something or someone was dictating her actions.

It wouldn't surprise the kit if the sudden surrounding of the camp weren't part of a larger plan. The children had only been kept at bay, not putting up much of a fight due to the security the mansion afforded them. The adults wouldn't have pushed leaving too hard either, not knowing if they could safely transport over two hundred plus children across the Nocturne Plains with no trains or wagon.

"What do ya think then?" Reno asked quietly, wondering just what the blonde made of the situation.

"We were set up by Ganon. That's the only reason I kin figure they lasted this long. This isn't set up that well, either." _Which is a surprise for Gramps._ The teen thought bitterly. "No siege engines, sloppy formations. The only thing holding us here is the sheer number of them."

"Moblinz an' their ilk aren' bery shmart." Reno remarked, going over his memory. "Bulbinz are za shmartish. Any line they form iz likely ta break when ya draw blood. Za leader kept them together lasht time. Za lasht wave wuzza joke."

"Yeah. They tried to retreat a few times. If I take out tha leader, ya think tha rest will scramble?"

"No doubt." Reno assured him, the ears flattening. "Jusht gotta find him. Do ya think there'z a cresht here?"

Link grunted at the sudden topic change, brought back to his original reason for traveling to the cursed city. He rubbed the back of his left hand restlessly, frowning in thought. He'd already done a thorough inspection of the mansion and hadn't found one. The servant's quarters on the top level had been stripped of all linen and pallets.

Link suspected that most of them were in the makeshift hospice on the first floor. A large sitting room had been cleared and the wounded had been moved from the yard and into there. The two of the four rooms on the second floor were heaped with pallets, cushions from the furniture, pillows and blankets. They looked like nests.

The other two had everything comfortable stripped from them, with the exception of one room that had a view of the west. The only locked door had been to the basement. Nothing of interest was below, except for a squat door that had been hidden behind a clothes press. According to Link's map, it led to outside the mansion, which made next to no sense to him.

_I need ta get some sleep. I'm dead on my feet. My whole body hurts. I need the armor off…_ He thought wearily, letting his head fall to his knee. _Cripes. What takes so long to make sure that tha parameter is clear?_ "They're taken their time, aren' they?"

"Yeah." The fox agreed. The large eyes closed to snatch a quick nap in their wait. Hask had told them to wait inside until they made sure that the children were calm and able to stand their watches. That had been at least three hours ago. It was far past midnight and the kit was worried they would wait till the morning.

Hask found the pair napping in the same position an hour later. The steam gunner felt a tired smile stretch at the sight. Shep looked innocent in his slumber, quite different from the usual strained look that edged the fine lines of the long face. If Hask didn't feel so envious of the catnap, the steam gunner would have thought it a shame to wake him.

However, Hask was just petty enough to take pleasure in jerking the green tunic hard enough to unbalance the teen. Shep woke in a rush, reaching out to snatch the frame of the window to keep from flopping out. Rex wasn't so lucky and tumbled from the armored shoulder to land with a yelping thump on the floor.

The teen's wide eye locked on the scarlet ones watching with amusement. "No rest for the wicked. Come on."

--

The blonde stood in the middle of the only furnished and nestles room on the second floor, not bothering to sit in one of the chairs pushed against the wall. It was a large study, books lining cases along one wall, a fireplace opposite, and a hardwood desk was shoved out of the way in front of the books. Two uncomfortable looking couches were shoved against the wall on either side of the double doors, leather chairs flanking the fireplace in the far right corner. The Dolstrol woven rug was plush; though it had dark stains of blood and grit matted into the strands.

Striker crouched on the side of the balcony opening, bright blue eyes watching Link with an intensity he'd only encountered in Provost Hounds. The silver frosted white fur standing on end. Reaper stood with his shoulders propped against the wall beside a couch. Kessler stood at the balcony rail, her back to the teen as she preened her hair and shifted on her feet. Hask stood off to Link's right, in front of the fireplace. The scarlet eyes were focused on Kessler.

The lanky teen found the position the children had fallen into interesting. Where the scythe-wielder kept as far from Kessler as possible, the dog-Shifted seemed glued to her side. Hask was withdrawn, giving no clear line where his alliance lay. No one had spoken since they'd stepped into the study, irritating the teen to no end since he wanted sleep.

His nap had refreshed him only to a point. His feet were tired, his legs beginning to ache at holding his weighted body up. His scalp itched, the dirty blonde strands coated with ashes. He just wanted to get the story out and find somewhere to collapse. He fought the urge to shift his weight, crossing his arms over his chest. Reno leaned against his leg, as if sensing the teen's unrest.

The milky-haired boy gave a soft sigh, drawing Link's attention.

Hask felt anything but calm, eyes locked on the taller teen. The steam gunner knew that Kessler felt intimidated by the stranger and Hask was hard-pressed to be the same. Over a head taller than the rest, Shep was a walking arsenal, bristling with weapons and armor. It was impossible to discern how built Shep was beneath the layers, but if his speed and endurance earlier were any indication, it wasn't all for show. _Reaper and Striker aren't going to speak up…God. They'll just scrape if they do, in any case. Where do I start? Where do I begin?_

"What is it you wish to know?" Hask finally asked, unsure of what to tell the teen. The azure eyes blinked and the thin lips tugged into a frown.

"How did y'all end up alone?" Link finally asked, rubbing the back of his neck to loosen the knots. i_Good as place ta start as any./i_

"Tha Elders that didn' end up fodder ran like tha pig piddle they are." Reaper answered, voice laced with irony. He didn't seem very upset, despite the harsh words. The words earned a quirked brow from Link.

"Shut yer hole, Reaper!" Striker snapped, rising from his crouch in a rush of motion. Hask flowed between them so quickly, Link never saw him move. Striker hesitated, body trembling with suppressed rage. "Keep spewing that swill an' I'll be forced ta plug it fer ya!"

"Ya don' have tha balls, ya half-witted hound!" Reaper snarled, vicious glee written over the narrow face. "Just face tha facts! Yer ma ran like the rest!"

"Like yer pa wuz much better!" Striker growled, lunging forward until his furry chest pressed against the muzzle of Hask's gun. Link's brows rose, impressed despite his rising ire. He hadn't even noticed the boy draw it. He didn't have time to let them squabble but he wanted to see if Kessler would step in. "Or mayhap he wuz! Chewed him up like the fodder he wuz!"

"ENOUGH!" Hask roared, voice thick with anger. The scarlet eyes flashed to Reaper, who looked ready to kill, hand over his shoulder to grasp the scythe. The pale skin stood out over the dark metal forming savage claws over the knuckles. "BACK DOWN OR I SWEAR! I'LL KILL YOU BOTH TO SAVE ME THE TROUBLE!"

Striker let his rage rumble from his chest and out his throat. Both boys trembled with barely contained emotion. Link saw the dog-Shifted move while Hask's attention was elsewhere. The blonde flew across the distance. He jammed his shoulder beneath the ribcage and lifted, throwing the canine's body a few feet and watching it land hard in grim satisfaction.

A shrill scream made the teen's long ears ache and he winced away. Kessler strode forward, hair fluffed to the max as she glared daggers with her one eye. "MURDERER! KILLER! NO GOOD! I'LL KILL YOU!"

The bird-Shifted halted when her throat pressed against the tip of Link's blade. The lanky blonde wasn't even sure when he'd drawn it, but he didn't hesitate to press into the soft flesh. She didn't speak, but her breath whistled between her clenched teeth.

"He wuz about ta brain Hask. Not nice, are my thoughts." He started, azure eyes hard. He hoped she'd give him a reason to take off her head. She rubbed him the wrong way entirely. "Yer pup is fine. Tell me how y'all ended up here."

Kessler altered her stance ever so slightly, but Link shook his head.

"Ah-ah-ahhh…" He taunted. "Keep those creepy twitchers up away from tha steam gun, gilly. Ya really don' wanna press me. Stop acting cracked! I don' care if ya are nuthen but babes; y'all couldn't have lasted this long if ya weren' doin' somethin' right! Stop squabblin' an' get yer story out!"

Kessler opened her mouth, but Link made a sharp gesture for silence. "Not from you. From Hask."

"I'M THA LEADER!" She screeched at the insult, colorless eye blazing with hate. "I tell tha story!"

"If you were such a leader, yer men wouldn' be scrappin' like fools!" Link countered hotly, face twisting in anger. "Their idiocy nearly ended their lives and a bit of yer watch earlier!"

"Kessler, stop it!" Hask snapped, patience as tried as Link's. He rose, helping the gasping Striker to his feet. Kessler sub-sided, looking sullen and rebellious. The red eyes flicked to the blonde, who kept his gaze on the bird-Shifted. "Long story short: We're plains folk. Survivors banded together. We couldn't reach Kakariko, so we settled in Dolstrol for the time. The Elders started disappearing steadily from patrols. We made a push for Kakariko, but were attacked before we could reach the outskirts of the ruins. We lost a good number of Elders and some babes. We pulled back, but it's obvious why they were keeping us here at that point."

"Why?" Link asked, brow furrowed as his tired mind tried to work through the details.

"Easy prey." Reaper hissed. The tall boy ignored the nasty look Hask shot at him. "Ate the dead before they stopped screamen'."

"So the Elders didn't just run. They were hunted." The blonde pointed out, rubbing his eyes.

"We only know the fate of those from the first push. The others…we are unsure of." Hask admitted after a moment, looking tired. "They've been picking us off slowly since. We are careful on who goes on patrols. They seem to be getting impatient. They've never swarmed the ruins like this before."

"We can only build up a good defense." Link pointed out after a moment of thought. Kessler's head jerked around to stare, eye narrowing in annoyance at his comment. The blonde cocked a pale brow, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What about offense?!" She squawked, feathers ruffling through the auburn locks. "Just wait! Like prey!"

"These aren' humans. They're Unknowns." Link countered, voice harsh as his brows drew together. "We don' know where they receive supplies, if they even do, so we cain' cut them off or ruin them. Y'all seem ta be their food supply, really. Harrying them in tha night will do us no good. They're too stupid to understand a threat or fear the dark. They don't have sentries as we understand them, they rove around in packs, so we cain' pick them off. Not to mention, all we have is babes to throw at them."

"Not just babes!" Reaper snapped, gold eyes flashing beneath the ebony spikes. Link threw the boy a bothered look. "We're not helpless, city-born!"

"A small number of ya aren'!" Link argued, giving the leather clad scythe wielder a disgusted look. "Most aren' much suited for this work! Wouldja send Avalanche ta play wit 'em?"

Reaper huffed, not convinced. "Striker, Hask and me kin do it!"

"Three! Four if ya count me! We'd be doin' all tha work! What happens when they attack? We wear ourselves ragged and cain' survive a quick scuffle!" Link growled, fingers digging into his biceps in frustration. He'd beat them all senseless if he thought it would accomplish anything. Kessler was strangely silent, watching him with the near colorless eye. Striker's gaze was locked Kessler, visibly calm as he waited for his leader to give him directions. "This won' be a couple of quick jobs. It takes hours ta set up an' finish. What if we botch one? No. Better to set up a defense so we kin figure a way ta get tha whole rabble back ta Kakariko. There'll be enough fighting on our way back ta keep ya happy."

"Why should we leave? We've done all…right by ourselves!" Kessler pointed out shrilly, shifting her weight back and forth like a nervous hawk. "Tha Unknowns were always here…but never in numbers. Not till _you_ came! If ya leave…we'll be fine! Safe!"

"What promise do ya have of that happenen'?" Link asked; eyes narrowed dangerously at the girl. He really hadn't thought it possible to hate someone more than Monk. He'd thought the man had been the epitome of stubborn stupidity, but apparently there were those who could rival him.

_Oh, stop. I'm blushing!_ His inner Monk snickered.

"They could just overrun ya fer yer troubles. Or keep ya pinned in till ya starve as they pick off yer hunting parties." The long-eared teen continued, ignoring the comment. "One of ya will falter. One of ya will fail. When ya do, tha slaughter will begin."

Silence met his declaration. Kessler was still puffed, but she only turned her face away. Hask was quiet, his scarlet eyes never leaving the blonde's face. Reaper looked mulish, but merely copied the teen's pose.

"What do you propose?" Hask finally asked, voice husky. He was running his hand up and down the barrel of the steam gun resting in the sling across his chest. Kessler's gaze jumped to the older boy, displeasure on her pinched features.

"Dig trenches in font of tha gate. Put spikes at the bottom. A fence after that and a trench behind that, so that it won' be easy if they manage to break tha gates. Board up tha windows an' build a wall in front of tha entrances." The azure eyes flicked to the ceiling thoughtfully, going over the tactics he had often discussed with his Gramps. It was getting uncomfortable, realizing how his life seemed to have been orchestrated. He hated being toyed with. "We kin use tha windows ta get in an' out. Bar them up when we're in safe."

"Trap ourselves in!?" Striker asked in a disbelieving tone, slowly rolling onto his knees. Link shot him a glance, wondering if dog-boy would be stupid enough to rush him. His hackles rose as he'd listened, long canines showing proof to his displeasure.

"Reet talked about a passageway that leads under tha city." Reaper suddenly popped up, his brows furrowed at the effort to think of a way i_around_/i a fight for once. "If we can find it, then we would be able to slip away."

"Where would the tunnel be, though?" Hask asked, eyes flicking back and forth between Link and Reaper.

"Tha basement." Link answered thoughtlessly, understanding what the door beneath the house represented now. He felt somewhat foolish for not realizing it sooner.

"How did _you_ get in tha basement?" Kessler hissed, rounding on the teen. The thief gave her a bland look, inwardly annoyed. It sounded like the girl was ready to damn him and the teen had far enough from the selfish child.

"Because I wuza thief, idiot! Picking locks is what I do!" The blonde threw back, patience lost.

"Ya came ta steal from us!" Kessler shrieked, standing high on her toes to try to appear more menacing. The blue eyes rolled, wondering at the bird-girl's stupidity.

"Oh, shut up. Nothin' in this place is yers, fer one. Another, I wouldn' be tryin' ta talk sense inta yer thick skull if I was after a l'il treasure." The blonde scowled. He didn't bother mentioning he had no way to get off with the treasure in any case. "Stop tryin' ta find fault wit' me and listen. I'd swear ya didn' wanna return to a city. Do ya like bein' in charge of all tha babes? Power gotten to ya?"

"Enough!" Hask snapped, glaring at both of them. "Reaper, go set up three teams of three to start digging. You know which are most suited."

"Hask, ya cain' be serious!" Striker snapped, holding his ribs as he stood. "This jock's no good!"

"If you'd look past yer blind loyalty, Mattes, you'd see he's trying to help." The boy snapped, rubbing the flesh that connected to his gun sadly. "Sabine's in the wrong this time."

Silence met this statement, Striker and Kessler looking too stricken to answer. The red eyes turned to look at the coltish teen, assessing what lay before him.

"You'll need a long range weapon. I'll have it ready in the morn."

--

Link stared at the nest of cushions and blankets in the large room on the third floor. Reno was curling on a pillow, four tails beating a content rhythm against the floor. Breaker, a girl of seven or so that had a crossbow strapped across her back, looked up at him with brown eyes framed by violet bangs.

"Here's where you'll ger yer winks, then." She informed him, as if it wasn't obvious. Her right arm was clockwork, the pieces overlapping one another. Steam floated in wisps from the cracks and the plates shifted with each exhale.

"Food?" He asked, since his belly was gnawing on itself in an effort to relieve the hunger. His supplies went down mostly with the horse.

"That…" She reached into a pouch hanging on her hip and pulled out a cloth bundle. "…easy ta mend, that. Should ease yer belly pains some-like."

He peeked into the bundle, identifying dried apple, pear and peach chunks mingling with hunks of goat cheese. Sadly, it wouldn't really dent his hunger at all, but he didn't see a point in demanding more. They probably didn't have it to spare and he had a sneaking suspicion that what he had was Breaker's share in any case. He was better off saving it until morning. He gave the girl a nod in thanks, in which she raised brow in acknowledgment.

"I'll wake ya after a few winks. Hask wants ya ta start on weapons in tha morn." The brown-eyed girl informed him, turning to walk out of the room. Link watched her, noticing how empty the room truly was when she softly shut the door.

There was an overstuffed leather chair beside the window near the nest. If the thief had felt like sleeping upright, it would have been the perfect spot for the night. Instead, it would have to do to put his clothing while he slept.

He unhooked his shield and propped it against the wall. The teen unbuckled both leather straps that kept the sheath in position over his shoulder, setting the sword on the linen beside where he would sleep. He laid the belt over the arms and stripped off his tunic and mail, draping them over the back of the chair. He dropped the gauntlets on the seat, rubbing his wrists for a moment in relief. Leaning down, the boots were unbuckled and kicked off, set beside the chair with stockings arranged over them.

He felt exposed, but he didn't think sleeping fully armed would allow for comfortable rest. He flopped into the nest, arranging the sheets over his body and pulling the sword within easy reach. It was a risky move considering he may just roll over onto the weapon and make it harder to draw. The blue eyes slid shut, body nestling deeper into the bedding.

His eyes burned more when he closed them and his body throbbed. He wanted to sleep, he really did. His sore body needed rest. Still, it was a task to fall asleep in a new environment. The new sounds and lack of others made him fidgety. The thief's mind was just a fatigued but refused to take the precious moments to take a respite.

Part of the issue was a five-year-old had called him 'Link' just as he left the meeting room.

—"This is Breaker. She'll take you to where you can rest." Hask introduced the tall girl, who gave Link a dubious look. The teen sighed, not really in the mood to make pleasantries. He just wanted to sleep. Hask's lips turned into a smirk, obviously guessing at his bad temper. "Pleasant dreams, Shep."

"Link!" A high voice cried, catching the teen's attention. The blonde fought not to turn around too quickly, but he could feel Reno already looking. A small hand grabbed onto his bare fingers, tugging insistently. Feeling it was safe, the teen turned his gaze down. She'd been caught mid-Shift with a goat. Two coral colored, flat horns were planted in pink curls. There was delicate feathering about her wrists, the yellow eyes split with the long pupil.

"Oi-ya, gilly." The blonde tussled the curls lightly, trying to keep his discomfort from his stance.

"Link! You came!" She repeated, squealing with delight and pulling at his hand. "I knew ya'd find us!"

"Eh?" Sadly, the tired thief's brain couldn't process what she said fast enough, leaving him to give a less than articulate reply.

"Reet." Reaper scolded, leaning down and scooping the girl in his arms. The girl gave a pleased laugh and threw her arms around the scythe wielder's neck.

"She was here when we arrived." Hask called from the heated, quiet discussion she'd been having with Kessler. "She's a bit off, our Reet. Forgive her?"

"Uh…sure." The blonde agreed, rubbing his face warily.—

If he'd been at the top of his game, maybe he could have wheedled why she called him Link. Sadly, the filcher probably wouldn't have a chance till the morning.

"No good?" Reno asked, sensing his friend's restlessness. The blonde grunted in response, the blue eyes opening to stare up at the tall ceiling.

"They've renamed themselves, that much is pretty clear." The teen started off, remembering the names Hask had called the pair. "Distancing themselves from what they were, mayhap."

"They are different." Reno pointed out, pressing his cold nose against the long ear for emphasis on the differences the boy suffered from the Shift. "Yer tha same."

"I'm not saying they shouldn't." The thief growled impatiently, ignoring the last comment. Reno knew his reasons were far different from the others. "I'm just pointing it out. I bet the whole lot of 'em are as divided as Reaper and Striker on who they want to follow. Why the hell they'd follow a cracked bird like Kessler is beyond me."

"We kin ashk around tomorrow." Reno pointed out with a yawn. "Nexsht dusshk I'll head out inta tha Unknown camp an' pick up all I kin."

"If ya would." Link responded, body relaxing. He had faith in the kit's keen observations. The listening skills would also come in handy. "I don' wanna be stuck here any longer than I hafta."

Sleep clouded the teen's mind and he rested a hand on the curiously dead hilt. His thoughts became disjointed and erratic, flitting over events passed and the ones to come. Reno watched the blonde slip into the slumber, violet eyes worried.

Link was suited to be a leader, which was strange. Always a loner before, though it's not too surprising since most thieves went solo even under the Thief Lord. It was safer and more efficient for the most experienced thieves. His grasp of military tactics raised the boy's ire. There was only so much the teen could have picked up from the guards around Kakariko. Though Link did attribute that much to his Gramps.

As for Jin…why would the old man know such things? As far as the fox could remember, Jin had been a homeless man. Stories of his youth and vigor were well known, but he was never above the Lower Levels. Then again, they were just stories. Reno couldn't remember ever hearing anything about Link's parents beyond their death. He didn't even know which one was Jin's child.

Nothing was adding up.

It only served to unnerve the kit more.

--

The sun beat down on Link's blonde head, not helping his headache in the slightest. He'd managed to get a good six hours of sleep, but he still woke up sore and unhappy with life in general. The weapons yard was just as thrown together as he remembered, the targets were cushions from the furniture positions on posts driven on the ground spaced a hundred yards a part. The wreckage from ruined furniture was in a burn pile near the wall.

The children that weren't on watch or the digging crew were lined along the mansion and ramparts. The blonde tried to ignore the curious gazes, wishing he could order them all back to their posts or anywhere he wasn't. The situation was too like his practices with Viscen and didn't sit well with the teen at all.

His sword was strapped over his shoulder, but his shield and belt were behind him on the ground. He would have forgone the gauntlets, but they'd serve to protect his forearms. Considering his lack of experience with the compound bow Hask had found him, it was probably a good thing.

"Don' look like any bow I've ever seen." Link grumbled at the matt-black weapon. The limbs didn't curve, but were horizontal and there were too many cables. Hask shrugged.

"These two things these cables are wound through? They're called 'cams'. The give more…oomph, but the recoil's terrible. The bow jumps out of your hand. I had the bow modified so the recoil wasn't such a shock." He explained, running his fingers down the bow riser lightly. He paused at the strange contraption just over the arrow shelf. "This is the sight window. These clip things on the cable are silencers…this rod is just to allow for the arrow to clear without ruining the fletches..."

The boy faded off and coughed in embarrassment, realizing he was going into more detail then was necessary. Link ignored him, trying puzzle out the weapon.

The flexible arms were made of a material he was unfamiliar with. A quiver was attached to the right side of the grip, full of light but durable arrows. His fingers tightened on the soft material that made up the grip, trying to get comfortable.

Holding the bow in his right hand, the teen pulled back the cable with his left. The muscles along his shoulders and arms strained, but not uncomfortably. The limbs flexed further until his left hand brushed his cheek. It was a strange and familiar movement, so he slowly eased the tension and stared down at it.

"The pull's not too much?" Hask asked from his side. The blue gaze flicked to the boy and shrugged at the almost anxious expression on the normally mellow boy.

"Meh." He answered, feeling odd with the weapon in hand. He hated being the center of attention when he wasn't even sure he could use the bow effectively. If there was one thing the teen hated, it was being ridiculed. One small blessing was that Reno was still napping up in the room to prepare for the sleepless night ahead of him.

"Put up a few arrows, then." Reaper jeered from the side, Reet perched on his shoulders. She waved a pudgy hand before tucking a thumb back in her mouth, which Link returned half-heartedly while he glowered at the younger boy.

_One reason. That's all I need ta wipe that look off his face! _He thought, drawing out the arrow and fitting it on the cable, drawing it back carefully. He tried to aim as he did with the slingshot, looking down the arrow. He let loose, the cable's thrum barely audible to the teen's long ears and the arrow slicing through the air.

"What was _that_?!" Reaper cried; laughter following quickly after as the arrow missed the target completely, driving into the ground.

Heat seared the thief's flesh and he tried to tune out the guffawing as he drew another arrow and aimed higher. He'd over adjusted and the arrow missed the perched cushion completely and cracked against the stone wall behind it. More jeers followed Reaper's as Link tried and missed once more, the arrow flying wide to scatter a few on lookers and cracking against the mansion.

"Wind and rain, city-born! Ya tryin' ta kill someone?" Reaper roared, stepping forward menacingly despite Reet on his shoulders. The girl didn't look concerned and laughed unabashed at being jostled about.

"Like ya'd do much better, ya swing-happy dirt-crawler!" Link snapped, eyes flashing in barely suppressed rage. _Just give me a reason. Come on, one reason!_

"Keep those lips flappen' ya gutless pretty boy!" Reaper snarled, not forgetting to set Reet on the ground before advancing on the teen. "I'll knock the ivory from behind 'em."

Link dropped the bow, flushing with the prospect of releasing the pent up aggression and strode forward. He could almost feel his fist meeting with the narrow jaw and snapping it.

"Enough, you two!" Hask snapped, grabbing onto Link's arm and trying to pull him back. The teen shrugged off the boy's hold, cocking his arm back and letting his fist fly.

Reaper swerved back from the first swing, driving his fist towards the blonde's stomach. Link grabbed onto the wrist, yanking the boy forward. He turned into the pull, fitting his hip against the thin scythe wielder's side and throwing him into the dirt.

Reaper landed with a grunt, dust rising about his thin form. Link stared down at him, a feral grin stretching over his thin lips. He trembled with the need to follow through. It didn't matter how, but he needed to make it clear that Reaper was far from ready to dance with him.

"Shep!" Hask yelled, grabbing onto the thief's shoulder and jerking roughly. Link blinked, a little dazed as his concentration broke. "That's enough!"

The thief opened his mouth; ready to reply when a cry went up from the ramparts.

"ARCHERS ALONG THE EAST WALL!"

Hask cursed and Link gave the boy an appraising look, impressed despite the urgency of the situation.

"KARPOV! BRAWLER! COVER RAPTOR AND CROSSFIRE!" Hask roared, turning and starting towards the west wall and grabbing a couple of children that were heading towards the east. "We need to cover the west wall! Reaper!"

"I'm on it!" He growled, crawling up from the dirt and heading towards the stairs that led to the top of the north wall. The rest of the children scattered, presumably to follow orders Hask had already given for such a situation. Link watched them disperse, feeling next to useless as he scooped up the bow and gave the offending weapon a scowl.

"Link! Link!" Reet grabbed his hand, large eyes turned up expectantly at the long face. The lanky teen frowned.

"Call me Shep." He ordered grumpily, heading towards his belt and shield. From the jeering calls from the wall, the immediate threat was over. Link wanted to be out of sight before he'd have to resume the disastrous weapons practice.

"But ya look like Link." She pouted at the teen's heels. The blue gaze snapped back, taking deep breathes to keep from taking his bad temper out on the goat-girl.

"Do I? Where've ya seen Link before?"

"In tha castle!" she gave a gape toothed grin. "I'll show ya! Come on, Link!"

"Stop calling me that, ya bleater." The disgruntled thief growled after the girl as he buckled his belt and strapped on his shield. He reluctantly shuffled after her, thinking it the best way to stay out of sight for a while.

--

The teen followed the girl towards the kitchen door on the southwest corner of the mansion. Children yelled from the walls, the hissing bark of the steam guns filling the air in an uneven rhythm. Reet continued to pad towards the kitchen entryway, ignorant or unworried of the mayhem that played about just over the wall.

She opened the large door, gesturing for Link to hurry as she slipped inside. The thief followed her, the biting scent of wood smoke engulfing him. Edge, the healer, sat in front of the fireplace and stirred the caldron that bubbled over the flames. She turned at Reet and his entry, a pleased smile toughing her mouth at the sight of the girl.

"Hey-la Reet." The clear blue gaze shifted to Link after the child returned the greeting. "How goes it?"

"Only archers. They're doing fine." Link replied, figuring that she was asking about the action outside. The long face relaxed at that and the coltish teen realized how worried she'd actually been. "Whatcha cookin'?"

"Laundry. I'm boilin' tha dressin's and rags." She pulled out the paddle and laid it across the opening. She stood and tugged her tunic straight. "What're y'all doin' inside? Are you on Reet Watch?"

"Gilly says she wants ta show me somethin'." Link admitted, putting a gauntleted hand on the child's shoulder to keep her from darting off. The goat-Shifted gave an impatient bleat but sub-sided.

"Hoo?" Edge gave a sweet smile, brushing her hands through the light jade bangs. "Mind if I tag, Reet? We'll have somethin' ta fill our bellies after."

"Yes, yes!" The girl jerked from Link's hold, running to a door straight ahead. The corridor it opened to really lead to nowhere that he couldn't get to by other means, so he just hadn't bothered. It'd been dark before and he had no lantern or candle to light. The large wooden door swung inward, the sunlight spilling to illuminate the opposite wall. Edge arched her brows as Reet ran through the opening and into the pitch.

"Reet!" She called, exasperated. Edge gave chase, stride long as she disappeared into the darkness next.

The coltish teen hesitated at the edge of the threshold, dust covered boots shuffling restlessly. It wasn't as if he were afraid of the dark, he just didn't have any fond memories of it. Being trapped in the room didn't appeal to him either. Though the mansion didn't have the same feel to it as the mountain or the cave did, it held something similar. A watchful and patient quiet; not an active one that ready to play tricks like on the renamed Death Mountain or in the water treatment plant. The feeling made him wary at the same.

Gritting his teeth, he trotted to keep up with the females. His foot passed over the entrance; light bursting to life along the candles nestled in the holders along the wall. The teen paused, hairs standing up along his flesh. His hand went to his sword unbidden, half-drawing the sharp blade.

No Unknowns leapt from hiding, the door remaining open. Cautious azure eyes scanned the area, falling on the shocked Edge holding onto Reet's shoulders at the far end. Portraits and candles lined the wall, nothing malicious or remotely alive, so he let the sword nestle back in the sheathe. He let out the breath he hadn't been aware of holding, pressing his palm against his forehead as he strode towards the pair.

"Cripes. Why didn' y'all warn me?" He grumped, feeling foolish for behaving in such a paranoid manner. It wasn't as if he hadn't experienced things to warrant such a reaction, but they didn't know that.

"Th-that's never happened afore." Edge admitted slowly, voice careful as if she were afraid to let to give proof to the uneasy feelings. "This room has always been…dark."

The thin lips pulled into a scowl, shaggy head pulling up to show his annoyance at being played with. He opened his mouth to give a nasty answer, but the words died on his lips as his gaze locked on the portrait behind them.

He was dimly aware of Edge doing the same and her soft gasp.

It was two men standing beside one another, the older man letting his right hand rest possessively on the younger man's shoulder.

The younger man was a blonde of fair skin and cobalt eyes. The ears were long, two silver hoops clinging to the lobes. A forest green doublet clung to his torso, white hose tight on the long legs and a silver chain holding an ornate saber on his right hip. With the exception of the livery hanging about the throat, he was an exact double of Link.

Where the teen was mostly green, silver and whites; the older man was black, gold and browns.

The older man in the picture stood nearly two heads taller, red hair slicked back along his scalp. The skin was dark olive, hawk-like nose set between yellow eyes that bore down into the three children staring up at the picture. A carefully trimmed beard framed his strong and thick jaw, winged brows melding into the hairline. A gold circlet held a fiery yellow jewel on his forehead. The left hand rested on the hilt of a broad sword belted on his hip.

—"Sorry, Hero. I'll need that Triforce of Courage. Be a good lad and give it up?" Gramps asked, yellow eyes dancing with menace and triumph. The teeth were no longer yellow, but straight and white. The long ears had shrunk to round shells. The world began to fall away with a sharp jerk and casual toss.—

Link blinked, feeling sweat break out over his flesh. His gaze fell to the nameplate along the base.

_**Ganon jin Dorf and son, Link van Dorf**_

Real awe set it when he realized the date inscribed wasn't how years had been counted for at least nine centuries.

_How old does this make the picture? Cripes…this must be the founder…my Gramps…no…Ganon was the founder._ The teen brushed his oily hair back nervously, unsure what to think. It raised too many questions he wasn't sure how to handle currently.

Edge was staring at him hard and the thief tried to avoid her gaze. There was shrewdness in the eyes he didn't think he could dissuade currently. He couldn't lie and he didn't feel connected to his Shep character enough to fool her.

"Uncanny likeness." She pointed out as Reet jumped up in down holding onto her hand.

"Kinda creepy." Link admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and staring up at the portrait. The wonder and awe he'd felt was being burned away by the panic quickly welling up. He could see the edge of a red barrier behind the frame, so he also found the crest.

"Ya seem real shaken."

Shep seemed to flow back inside the teen and he turned, giving her a bland look. "Cripes. How would i_you_/i feel seeing a painting a few hundred years ol' wit a likeness of you?" He turned back, a slight frown along the thin lips. "Explains why she keeps callen' me Link."

"Ya've found us!" Reet pointed out and the hairs marched along Link's skin once more. "You'll free us!"

"Yer faith in meh is…scary. I'll try, babe…but no promises." The gauntleted hand tussled the curls between the horns lightly, a crooked grin on his lips.

--

Edge found Hask standing on the battlements overlooking the training grounds. Reaper was instructing the target practice below, which would normally be strange for the boy's temperament. In spite of the bloodlust, he was a patient and careful teacher to the young.

Hask still watched him and the workers that were dismantling the lower windows with care. Edge stood beside the silent figure, holding her arms over her stomach as she took in the scene.

Edge was amazed at all the traps Hask and Shep were in the process of setting. The pair worked together amazing well, their personalities fairly close considering the differences in upbringing. Hask had been a militia brat on the plains and Shep, if Kessler's words could be believed, a city-born thief escaped from Shieka.

"What's Sokolove doing?" Edge asked as her brow furrowed at the auburn haired boy placing his hands against the boards arranged over the empty frame.

"He has a Gift…I'm not sure how to explain it, just watch." Hask murmured, bloody eyes narrowed to slits.

The wood beneath the slim fingers turned gray, the dry crackle making the hairs along the healer's arms stand on end. The sound of groaning wood shifted into grating rock, the board melting into the stone walls; as if it had always been a part of the mansion. Sokolove stepped away, face turned towards the sun with a strange smile on his small mouth. He turned large green eyes towards Hask and Edge, waving shyly.

Hask returned the wave slightly, a smile stretching the steam gunner's lips in answer. "He tried to explain it to me. 'I'm just speeden' it up' is what he says."

"Hmm." Edge replied, unsure how to reply. It brought up many questions in her mind, such as if Sokolove could be used for healing. Could he speed up how fast the blood clotted a wound or cleared veins? "Hmm."

"Where's Shep?" Hask asked suddenly, eyes scanning the process of stacking the glass panes on another for later use.

"Digging."

"Still?" The steam gunner turned towards the taller girl, an insipid brow lifted. "He's been at it since this morn."

"Still." She confirmed with a huff, a frown tugging her lips downwards. "Didja see the painting?"

"Uhn." Hask confirmed, shifting on weight from foot to foot. "Strange, that was. Don' see why he should be so shook up 'bout it though."

"How would you feel?" Edge asked, more or less quoting the tall blonde. The sapphire eyes flicked to the short figure. A shrug was her only answer and Edge smiled. "We could go check on him."

Hask gave her a dry look, scarlet eyes amused. "How subtle." The steam gunner commented blandly before throwing up a hand in defeat and answering nonchalantly. "I suppose it's for the best interests that we make sure he doesn't die on us."

"Indeed. Very shrewd point, Hask." Edge agreed gravely and began down the battlements.

They paused a few feet from the trench, seeing six dirty children who were charged with digging it. They were giggling and staring down into the hole. Hask frowned and trotted forward, leaving Edge to bring up the rear.

The little fox Unknown sat beside the edge, staring down while his tails stirred the dust. The pair walked up in time to catch the last bit of Rex's words.

"Would be nish ta haff uh two fffoot ladder, ne?" The red head asked as he flicked some loose dirt into the trench with a paw idly.

"Shut yer yapper!" A voice bellowed from the depths.

"I wuz jusht shayin'…" The kit wheedled.

"Ya know what else a two foot ladder's good for?" Shep asked, the disembodied voice silky sweet.

"What?" Rex asked quickly, sounding amused as he panted sharply.

"Climbing outta his earlier grave, most like." Hask cut in, sensing nastiness unsuited for children's ears about to emerge from the teen.

"Hask." Shep stated darkly in greeting, azure eyes glittering up from the hole as Edge and Hask peered down it. He'd dug it nearly seven feet deep. An impressive hole, yes, but there wasn't anyway for Shep to climb out of it. "Give me a hand, will ya? Ya seem ta have an Unknown infestation. I'll tae care of it fer ya."

Rex gave a yelping laugh, turning tail and scurrying towards the mansion. Hask and Edge lay out on the ground, extending hands down into the teen. He growled and grabbed on, bracing his feet against the wall and walked up the wall until he could scramble out.

Shep stood, brushing the loose dirt from his chest. He only wore boots and the downy grey leathers. His chest was streaked with mud and sweat, outlining the muscles that dwell beneath the pale skin. His shoulders and face was a little pink, giving testament to the length of time he'd remained in the sun working.

The blonde scowled after Rex, propping his fists on his boney hips. Edge enjoyed the view, nudging Hask when she noticed the steam gunner doing the same. A scowl was the healer's answer and she chuckled quietly.

"The windows done?" Shep asked, large hands rubbing his shoulders lightly and smearing dirt against the sweaty skin as the cerulean eyes flicked over the mansion.

"All the glass is removed. Sokolove is taking care of the rest." Hask answered, looking into the deep ditch. "We'll set the traps along the pit now."

Shep gave a monosyllable response, eyes unfocused as his mind traveled elsewhere for a few breaths. Hask dismissed the children to clean up and find some dinner, Edge didn't move from the lanky teen's side.

Bloody dusk colored his body, the shadows slowly encroaching upon his boots. The teen slowly focused back on the healer, his long face set in careful neutrality. Edge gave him a razor thin smile, knowing that the teen was leery of her perceptive nature. She wondered what he was hiding for him to be suspicious of what she'd seen or could see.

Shep was an unknown. Edge knew everyone else in the camp; intimate details of most of the children's lives before and after the Shift. She knew nothing of the moody blonde before her, no way to compare previous behavior and reactions with previous experience to guess at his mind.

That was the majority of what drew the healer to the young mercenary.

"Has Striker gotten back?" Shep asked, breaking through the young woman's thoughts. Edge blinked, lips stretching into a frown.

"No. Hask figures he'll be back near or after sundown." The healer began to nibble on the tip of her bright green braid. "Something about any escape tunnel worth digging is gonna be long."

"Hn." The blonde replied, squinting into the darkening sky before giving a decisive nod to some inner thought and walking towards the mansion.

Hask stepped beside the taller girl, smirking at her. "There's probably a haystack in the basement you two can roll about in." The steam gunner pointed out, stroking the flesh connecting to metal. "As long as ya don't mind the goats watching."

"That's enough from you." Edge answered loftily.

--

Link was sulking.

He knew he was sulking. It drove him to distraction that he was acting so childish about the cursed portrait. It had shaken the foundation of which he identified himself. Yes, Viscen, Monk and Chris had said similar things that things were preordained when he'd first woken from the Shift. It'd been easy to shake off.

Not shake off, really; but ignore. He didn't want to accept that he'd been maneuvered in such a way. Especially by a person he'd gone against his very nature to protect and support.

He had to re-evaluate his entire existence. He had to find some purpose for his life beyond being the Sage's bag boy.

"You don't know how to use it."

Link turned, azure gaze locking onto Hask. A cloak shrouded most of his form, the opening along his right side. His arm was a flash of pale flesh and tubes. He felt a flush fight up his face as he realized that the steam gunner spoke of his bow skills. He gave an irritated scowl, not wanting to admit his ignorance and wanting to be left to brood in peace.

"You just don't know how to aim." He pointed out, rotating his shoulder a little. Link could see the gun tucked into a leather sling when the canvas shifted. "I could teach you."

"Jog on." The teen scowled, turning his gaze back towards the gathering dusk. He listened to the soft shuffling as the shorter boy stood at his shoulder.

"Most of the little 'uns are sleeping. The night watch won't pay us any mind." Hask pointed out in the husky voice, almost teasing. "I'll teach you to use the sight. You need a long-range weapon. If there were a steam gun that wasn't attached, we'd give you one of those."

"Why tha hell do you care?" Link growled, still seething from the afternoon of laughter at his expense. To just rip all their tiny heads off had been sorely tempting. Picking a fight with Reaper had been the only way to give his rage and humiliation an outlet. The battle afterward had left him feeling less than useless.

_Seeing that portrait helps even less. This's all…I dun wanna think about it right now. _The thief thought irritably. His body ached from the daylong effort to not think on it. He wasn't ready to face the implications, didn't want to face the questions it presented of his current life.

"It does me no good if I can't have everyone fight." Hask pointed out, expressionless as he watched the teen's inward struggle. The older boy seemed to be dwelling over something incredibly unpleasant and the steam gunner just wanted to keep him busy. "You suggested the final push would be soon."

The thief sighed, leaning his arms against the rough ledge. "Not too long, I think. How long was the tunnel?"

"Six miles, all told and don't try to change the subject." Hask chided, looking amused and annoyed at once. The teen growled in response, looking sulkily out into the darkness once more. "I'll explain the sight first, how about that?"

The steam gunner picked up the bow from the blonde's feet, setting in the sill and pointing to the pins on the positioned on the sight attached to the bow.

"First one is twenty yards, the second thirty and the third forty. It's pretty basic. The only difficult part is judging the distances." He murmured, touching the pins lightly and cocking a white brow at the watching Link.

"What if the target is thirty-five feet away?

"That's gap shooting. You just aim between the marks. Nothing too hard, you'll see. You just hold high for distances over forty and low for fewer than twenty. If you get some practice, you'll do fine."

Link was quiet for a moment, mulling it over. Practicing would give him something else to focus on at the very least. He grunted and grabbed the bow, slinging the quiver over his back with an agitated grumble.

"Let's fix your stance, first." Hask gushed, grabbing his arm and preventing him from walking to the stairs. "Keep an open stance, one foot a little more in front of the other. Good…now make sure the grip is in the fleshy bit of your palm…yeah. The arrow is supposed to be nock the arrow here, where the colored bit is."

"Ya realize we're inside, right?" Link asked, honestly amused by the boy's eagerness.

"Yes, yes. So don't nock one. Put your fingers on either side and raise the bow. Draw back in a smooth motion after you stop." The steam gunner urged, adjusting the teen's feet and head as he paced around him. "Your anchor's your jaw, I think. You seem to like it there. Good form. You're a natural, Shep. When you release the cable, don't move until your arrow hits the target if you can help it. If you drop too soon, you'll mess up the arrow's flight."

Link grunted and let the cable go, barely noticing the cable's whisper as it snapped at the sudden slack. "I'll never remember this all."

Hask grinned. "You'll do fine. Just takes practice. My father always said I'm only good with the bow is because my peaches haven't filled much."

"Your…peaches?" Link asked, looking at the boy askance. "I hope ya don' get'em, jock. It'd be a li'l unnatural like."

"Jock?" Hask frowned a beat before the scarlet eyes widened and jaw dropped. "You think I'ma…boy?"

The thief suddenly sensed he was on new and unsettling ground and stepped away from the gender-confused child. Hask looked unsure on the emotion best suited for the situation and settled for indignation.

"You thought I wuzza boy!" He-she accused.

"Ya look tha part." Link pointed out, amusement overcoming the discomfort. He gave a one-sided shrug. "Yer cloak covers the bits that count."

"Ass." She flushed deeply, giving an annoyed growl and put a hand protectively over the clasp holding it over her right shoulder. "Take my word for it. Now go do something useful instead of sulking like a child!"

Link watched her stomp off, a smile touching at the lips in spite of his annoyance. Pulling her tail would keep him amused until he managed to get free.

--

The teen learned something in the next three days.

The children didn't handle the idle waiting well.

Link spent most o his time practicing with the bow and teasing Hask. He took great pains to avoid Striker, Reaper, and Kessler. Razer, the brunette that he'd seen the first day was surprisingly quiet in comparison to her companions. Hask had assigned him to be her partner, ignoring his protests.

—"Everyone has a partner, why should you be any different, Shep?" She asked dryly. "I'm sure you'll be fine."

"Ya sure ya don' wanna partner up with me?" Link teased.

"You couldn't handle me." Hask growled with a flush, ignoring the smirking blonde.—

The tall girl stood beside him on the wall, fingers of her right hand tracing the twin three foot hooked claws extending from the back of her wrist. A curved saber on was strapped onto her waist, her breeches and tunic studded with flat metal disks. Her features were feline, having Shifted with a bobcat.

Long black whiskers sprouted from her fur-lined cheeks, black claws curved from all her fingers. Her eyes were gold with violet framing the slit pupils. Her teeth were impressive, but kept firmly behind thin, black lips. Her ears were long and black tipped. Shadowy stripes and smudges marked her flesh, but strangely there was no fur except on her face.

The Unknowns had been gathering since dawn, circling the wall and just staying out of range. It was clear the nasty beasts were eager to pull the final push, a few breaking ranks in their haste and being ashed. Every time a rogue fell, the others would squeal and roar, falling back a few feet in a mad scramble before falling back into ranks.

Anyone not on the wall was on the roof, hidden behind the spire palisades. Those who couldn't fight were waiting on the first floor for the call to evacuate. Kessler had wanted to run the night before, but Link had insisted it wasn't a good move.

—"We should run while we can!" The girl screeched, fluffing up as the blonde bit back a nasty reply. "Why wait!?"

"If they come and no one's here, what do ya think they'll do, bird-brain? They'll spread out and search the area!" He explained, patience beginning to dwindle. This wasn't the first and he feared not the last time he'd have to explain. "If we split up, it'll leave one group vulnerable. We need to let them think they have us; then Striker, Reaper and Edge lead them out. After they break the gates, the rest run. By the time they figure out how to break into the blasted mansion, we'll be halfway gone and Sokolove will've blocked off the basement opening."

"They could still follow." Kessler pointed out, preening furiously.

"Yes, but we'll have a few hours over them."—

_If I ever hafta deal with that gilly again, it'll be too soon._ The long eared teen thought irritably, finger tapping his belt as he frowned at the line of Unknowns. _Where the hell is Reno?_

"Beginning." She rasped, the words seemingly ground from an unwilling throat. It didn't take long for the thief to realize the silence was mostly because it was so i_hard_/i for the girl to talk. Link grunted in agreement, the children on either side of them readying their weapons.

A cry of affirmative ran down the wall, the voices twining in the afternoon air and clashing with the sudden roar from the Unknowns as they rushed the wall. Link found his voice joining the others, his blood burning with anticipation after so much waiting. He grabbed his bow and notched an arrow, keeping it aimed down as he waited for the line to near them. He could see the battering ram held high between moblins as they charged.

Silence descended on the wall, though Link could feel the fear trembling in air against his skin.

"Ready guns!" Link roared a beat after he heard Hask's order on the opposite wall. He felt rather than saw steam guns raised around him. The beasts were flooding from the ruins, moving faster than Link remembered. A bead of sweat trembled on his temple, roared when the Unknowns were a hundred yards away. "FIRE!"

Ash and multi-colored blood exploded in the air after the hissing pop of the guns loosed. The Unknowns didn't falter, the clockwork Unknowns barely faltering. The pushed forward, ignoring their fallen comrades and Link screamed as he raised his bow. "BOWS!

"LOOSE!" He cried, following up by letting an arrow fly when they reached fifty yards. Screams and gibbering cries chocked the air, adding to the symphony of twangs and pops of their weapons. Fear, careful and controlled, dwelled in the back of his mind, but he fought it off with each time he loosed an arrow.

Order was lost among the Unknowns as the line fell, their remains littering the ground in a thick carpet. They didn't even make it to twenty-five yards, turning to flee, the battering ram dropping. Shadows flicked from above, showing that those on the roof had joined the fray. Hask's call for retreat along had all the bows turning and clambering down the ladders attached for that very purpose.

Link, Hask, Razer and a few dozen others followed after the other children made it to the yard. A crashing boom announced the battering ram meeting the gates. It groaned and crumbled easily, as it'd been rigged for. However, it fell out instead of in, crushing the Unknowns on the other side.

Fear burned in the pit of the teen's stomach, having overrun his control as the Unknowns first crashed into the barbed fence, and then swarmed over it to fall into the pit. Ash billowed from the pit, masking the Unknowns still pushing through.

Hask pressed against his side, firing constantly. Her bloody eyes were serious and sharp. Razer drew her saber, the teeth bared in a snarl, transforming her face into a fearsome thing. She gave a feline scream that chilled his blood and caused his ears to ring. Link drew his sword and shield, shifting his stance as the Unknowns made it past the first line of traps.

Children from the walls still ran for the doors, breathless and frightened. Link met his first enemy with a quick swipe across the throat and dancing around the dust to thrust into another behind it. Razer twirled around a machete swipe, hooking the bulbin by the back of the skull and jerking him into her saber. Link pressed his back against the bobcat-Shifted thoughtlessly, admiring her hook and kill strikes.

The blonde wasn't sure how long they tussled with the mad mob of Unknowns before Hask's cry to fall back broke through the melee. They broke for the doors, Link tossing a bomb over his shoulder as a last thought.

They stumbled into the mansion, the door slamming behind them. The familiar sound of grating stone as Sokolove melded door and wall sounded a moment before the explosion. The teen took a moment to see who made it in, wince when he realized that beyond two others, Hask, Razer and he had been the only ones.

"You know your orders! Group one up to the roof! Group two, follow up on Reaper!" Hask rasped, pointing in the directions before running up the stairs. Link watched the children scatter and Razer follow the steam gunner.

Lips pursed, the blonde went to the portrait corridor. The candles were still lit and hadn't melted down at all. He passed by the noble faces frozen in serious expressions, eyes locked on the one that shouldn't be possible.

He paused before it, wiping the sweat from his brow and taking a deep breath. He reached up and brushed his fingers against the barrier peeking from behind the ornamental frame. It flickered and died as the glancing touch. A grin split the long face and he drew his sword, doing a quick horizontal cut.

The tip bit into the wall behind the painting, grinding through the stone beneath the plaster. The bottom half of the portrait fell forward and Link slashed it lengthwise so it fell to either side of him.

The crest was embedded in the wall and the thief touched it, the bauble falling from its setting easily and into the waiting hand. Link dropped it in the pack on his back, feeling excitement welling inside his blood.

The teen made it up the stairs to the meeting room, not surprised to see Kessler and Hask on the balcony. Razer stood off to the side, crouched and growling softly in her throat. The other two that had survived, Raptor and Crossfire, stood beside the fireplace.

"That's how they got passed the trench…just stacked up tha clockworks. How goes it?" He asked, stepping beside Hask. The Unknowns had pulled back from the walls and milled just outside the gates. The archers and shooters from the roof continued to rain down shots, but they didn't run. "What're they doin'?"

"Dunno. A few moments ago…they just stopped and retreated." Hask turned worried eyes to Link. If the attack had continued, it wouldn't be so troubling. Their behavior was unorthodox compared to what they were expecting. The teen tugged her milky bangs gently, earning a scowl.

"If ya keep frownen' like that, ya'll get wrinkles." He teased with equal seriousness. The thief had a reason he knew why they had pulled back. All they had to do was wait. He glanced at the fallen gate and grunted. "That didn' take long."

The Unknowns parted before their leader. The exceptionally large moblin the color of dark mud rode a top a snowy bull with glowing orange eyes. He held a pike in a lazy grip, his plate armor and visor-less helm rusted in spots and showing wide gapes in the shoulders and elbows. His legs were bare, large feet tucked into the wooden stirrups. The bright blue eyes were set under heavy brows, lips nearly non-existent on the mouth that dominated the small, round head.

The bull plodded through the gates, stumbling only a moment on the piled clockwork Unknowns before pausing just inside the walls. The small eyes flicked up to the balcony and met Link's dark gaze. The arrows and pellets from the guns were deflected easily and Hask called for a ceasefire to save ammo.

"Hero of Time." The moblin greeted, his voice deeper than even the Goron's; sounding closer to thunder rumbling than tumbling rocks. Ire rose and his eye twitched at the new title, making the teen clench his jaw to contain the nasty retort. "Lord Ganon sends his greetings."

"Who's it talking to?" Hask murmured; sounding confused as she gripped the railing. The blonde didn't say anything, but he could feel the intense scarlet gaze shift to him.

"Boy, don't be shy. You might hurt my feelings." The moblin continued, allowing the bull's head to drop and lip at the bloody grass.

Kessler hissed at his back, having grasped just as quickly as Hask on who the Unknown spoke to.

"Shep?" Hask's voice was sharp and questioning, causing Link to wince and sigh.

"A whore in church." He whispered in exasperation before raising his voice. "I hear ya, Unknown. Ya kin toddle back an' tell Ganondorf where he kin stuff his greetings."

"I'm called Mongoblin." He replied almost amiably. "Come down, Hero of Time. We've words to trade and deals to strike."

"Call me Shep, Mongo." Link drawled lazily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Shep? Is that what ye go by now, boy?" Mongo asked, a wicked expression in the small eyes. Hask was drawing away from him and the teen firmly ignored it.

"I go by a manner of names." Link danced around that question, emotion draining from his face. "Speak yer piece, Mongo. I don' have time for this. I hafta send yer beasties on their way."

"I think…ye should make time, Shep." The large moblin turned around in the saddle, the wooden seat creaking as the weight altered. He swung around, a ball of fluff and metal in his massive grip. Link's lungs deflated as he recognized Reno.

"Cripes, Rex…" He exhaled, seeing the awkward position the metal legs had frozen in and revealing the reason he'd been caught. The blonde turned from the violet eyes beseeching his and found the five others in the room watching him closely.

Hask said nothing, but the pursed lips belied the empty expression. Razer looked displeased, lips pulled back in a slight snarl. A gentle thunder sounded from the marked throat, leaving no question of her feelings. Raptor and Crossfire didn't look much happier, their hands on their holstered weapons so Link wouldn't mistake their loyalties. Kessler just looked smug, which pissed the teen off.

"He's got Rex." He explained after a moment, deciding he'd just kill Mongo. It was inevitable, he was guessing. Ganon sent the moblin specifically for him, which explained the sudden increase of Unknowns in the area. _Of course, I'd figured that._ "I'm going ta get 'im. Y'all take the ones on the roof and git."

Hask's eyes softened after a moment and nodded, rubbing her gun thoughtfully. "Crossfire, get everyone off the roof." She ordered and cocked a brow at the teen. "Are you sure, Shep?"

"I'm not gonna leave 'im, if that's whatcha mean. Just go. I'll keep them busy." He waved a hand dismissively, the others looking confused.

"Ya'd risk yer life fer an Unknown?" Kessler asked, visibly surprised. "Is he worth it?"

Link covered the distance between them in a blink, his fist popping the bird-Shifted in the eye and knocking her back. He grabbed onto the thin tunic and gathered it in his fist, drawing her close. He stared down into the started face. The bandage over her right eye had been dislodged. The left appeared colorless, it actually held a shimmer of icy blue in the depths of the iris.

The other iris was completely white with a gold pupil. It focused on him and widened, the girl beginning to tremble and keen softly.

"He's worth more than yer life, ya gutter trull." He replied coolly in the panicked face. He considered her for a moment before throwing her roughly away and into Raptor's arms. "Leave before I try a trade. Mongo's too stupid to know he'd get a trash gem."

Raptor gently pulled the girl back as Crossfire returned. Razor took a step back and relaxed her stance. Hask looked unsure what to say to the sudden burst of violence from the blonde. Link turned his back to their stares.

"See y'all in Kakariko." He threw back before vaulting over the balcony railing. He landed with a quick roll to stop on his feet and rising.

"Well?" Link asked, throwing his arms wide. "Ya got my attention."

"Lord Ganon has an offer for yew, boy." Mono started, letting the kit hang in his grip.

"One I can't refuse?" Link asked, cocking a brow sarcastically.

"Not if yew've a brain in yer skull." Mongo replied with a bloodthirsty grin. "I'll carry out that sentence if yew do."

"Hooo?" The teen sounded less than impressed. "I better listen closely, then."

"See that yew do, Hero of Time." The moblin snapped, the bull shuffling under the sudden rage of his rider. "Come to his Lordship's castle and side with him. Surrender the Triforce he seeks and he'll let yew live."

Link snorted and shook his head. "No he won't. The bastard tried ta kill meh once before with his own hands. How cracked does he think I am? Give me some credit."

"I'd hoped yew'd say that." Mongo grunted with a grin and casually tossed the fox to the teen. Link caught the heavy kit and pulled out the key, winding up the boy's chest. The redhead groaned and moved his limbs slowly.

"Git up there and wait fer me ta finish this." He ordered lightly. "Make sure the others stay outta it."

"Roger." Reno gasped, looking apologetic as he jumped from the thief's arms to run up the wall to the balcony.

"Yew'll finish it?" The moblin sounded amused and even gave a rumbling chuckle. Link unsheathed his sword and gave a smirk.

"I've killed something a bit fiercer than you." The teen pointed out. "I'd tell ya a message fer Ganon, but ya won' be leaven' these walls as anythin' but ashes."

Mongo kicked his bull roughly, the beast leaping forward with a pained groan and thundered towards the lanky hero. He parried the swipe by the pike and twisted from the bull's path. The moblin's foot snapped out and slammed into the teen's chest, sending him flying backwards.

The coltish blonde landed hard on the shield still on his back, body spinning wildly. He saw the trench rapidly approaching and the Unknowns reaching up from the pits to grab him. He slammed his feet down, digging his heels into the earth and stopping a few feet from the edge. He stared between his legs in shock before throwing it back at the sudden tremors.

The disorienting scenery was the snowy bull advancing. Link jammed his right hand into the clawshot, aiming between the pounding hooves and squeezing the trigger. The claws anchored and dragged the teen down the same path. Link angled his sword just after passing the massive, churning front legs. He shoved the sword up, piercing the breastbone and slicing through the belly to spill the innards in his wake.

Link released the claw and scrambled to his feet, rushing forward as the bull crashed with a pained, groaning roar. Mongo had jumped free and was standing, shaking his head. The moblin stood at least ten feet high, but it didn't cause a breathe of hesitation in the filcher. The blonde stabbed at the gaps in the armor, his blade knocked wide by the pike as the moblin swung around.

Lips pulled into a wild grin, Link ducked a wild swing and kicked up dirt as he danced around the brute and hamstrung a bare leg. Mongo roared, slamming his fist into the ground and causing it to buckle and crack with the force. Flipping back, the teen landed in a clear area and slide back until his heels kissed the mansion wall. Grey blood oozed from the wound and splattered against the ground.

The moblin balanced on his good leg, booming his rage as the pike twirled in the massive fists. The thief charged the wounded Unknown, donning his shield as he flowed over the buckled earth. Mongo stabbed the air about the boy so quickly; anyone watching couldn't see it in motion. The filcher swayed and danced around the pike, blue eyes wide as they focused on the moblin.

Link was high on something, but what he wasn't sure what. It coursed and pounded through his veins, filling him with power and speed. He knew he could end it soon, but it seemed a pity to waste such a perfectly good fight. Instead of a killing blow, the teen slammed the shield against the arms grasping the pike to knock them clear. Up his sword flew, tearing through the right armpit and fitting between the joint. He turned the blade to pop it apart and tore the flesh cruelly before yanking it free and rolling away.

The air trembled with the pained howl, the pike still grasped in the good arm. The Unknown swung it wildly, grunting with the effort. The thief dodged and wove from the strikes, teasing and taunting the tall brute with the smug smirk. Hot breath and bits of spittle washed over the teen as Mongo roared and slammed the pike in the ground Link had been standing just a moment before. The Unknown tried to pull it free, but it held fast in the solid ground.

Link jumped on the staff, running up its length and hacking the arm off while smashing his shield against the helm to keep the face clear. Flipping over the massive shoulders, the blonde landed on his feet, swinging around and ripping his blade through the last good appendage.

Mongo fell on his back, the earth shuddering at the sudden influx of weight. He howled like a beast, body arching in the pain at his useless limbs. Links stood over the thrashing moblin before slamming his foot down on the thick throat.

"Be still." He ordered sharply. Grey blood sprayed over his tunic and leather breeches, speckling his face. The moblin complied; air hissing through the stained teeth. Snot poured from the flat nose and Mongo sniveled, but he didn't seem to have the tear ducts in order to cry.

"Mercy! Mercy!" He wheezed, voice high and scratching. "Please!"

"Awww…" Link groaned in exaggerated sadness and ground his heel against the windpipe to cut off the begging. He gave a mocking look. "I would, but I promised Reno I'd finish it! I'm sure you understand, Mongo."

He ripped open the throat as the blue eyes widened in shock, thick blood spewed from the wound for a beat before slowing to a ooze as the massive heart halted. Black and green flames consumed the body and danced around Link's victorious form. The teen turned towards the open gate, the rest of the Unknown army fleeing at the sight of death.

--

A/N: ...so. It was a long week. I blame Bob. He suggested something that changed the entire sequence. I re-arranged some and had to re-create more. Of course, it made the entire chapter run smoother. But I can still be a little bitter. It didn't help that I've been put in charge of training for the work center and write for the quarterly newspaper(that's Bob's fault, too. No lie there. Jerk.), so I don't have any more free time. I also grew/acquired/been cursed with a social life. I don't know where it came from or how to manage it. It really is distressing. Moving on...

All told...32 pages.

I can't say when the next will be finished. I've given up on guessing. Hopefully I'll be forgiven. Please have patience!

Blackfang13 - Don't worry so much I enjoy and appreciate all of your reviews! I'm just glad you're sticking around as long as you have and like the story enough to expand on your thoughts!


	12. Arrogance

Link pulled the bull he'd ridden from Dolstrol to a grinding halt before the open gates of Kakariko

_**Reading something. **_—Remembering something someone "said" or did.— _Thinking_ **Sensing something **'Reno hearing something from far away'

--

Link pulled the bull he'd ridden from Dolstrol to a grinding halt before the open gates of Kakariko. The beast made a moaning cry of exhaustion, body trembling and blowing beneath the lanky body. The teen had pushed hard to make it back to Kakariko in five days. He'd barely given the bull or his weary body rest, opting to down the red potions to keep moving. The blonde slid from the uncomfortable wooden saddle, his thighs, lower back and buttocks cramping in protest.

The spotted bull groaned once more, large head hanging low to the ground. The muscles along the thick body twitched and gave weak spasms. The great sides heaved, rough coughing every other breath causing it to shudder. Dust stained lather dripped from the joints and the teen didn't hide the look of disgust as he swigged the rest of the last red potion.

He'd returned victorious and needed to report his success and gather any rewards. Reno had run ahead that night, beating the blonde to the city, he was sure. He strode towards the gates, recognizing the men on watch but unable to recall their names. Of course they would recognize him, how could they not? He was near legend by now! He racked his brain for names, figuring it was the _least_ he could do.

"Barak, 'Lender." He called in the way of greeting before gesturing to the slowly collapsing beast. "Either of ya want that?"

"You've broken it." Barak pointed out bluntly, eyes hard as he watched the approaching teen. "Not good fer much than a butcher knife now."

Link scowled, feeling as if he were being scolded. "I've important news ta deliver. I've no mind ta care fer tha beast. Do whatcha will, but be quick."

"What happened to tha horse, Mikau?" 'Lender asked, a frown touching his brows.

"Unknowns ate it." Link replied as he brushed past them both, ignoring the dubious looks that followed him. His blue gaze flicked towards the train station, barely caring to note the foundations that had been laid before he'd left had developed into roofs and half constructed walls. He entered the fray of the market, taking in the curious looks thrown his way. The blonde nearly swelled with pride.

Of course they would look at him, admire and move from his path. He'd taken down a moblin siege, cured a plague and saved the Gorons! The Unknowns recognized him on the field. The thief could see and feel them watching him wearily, but not daring to attack. Link would have chased them down, but had erred on the side of haste. He'd needed to get back to the city, for a decent meal at the very least.

He paused at a stall displaying fruit, his growling belly demanding sustenance to tide it over. He plucked an apple, inspecting it while he listened to the crowd. They were talking of his last exploit from Narein, musing over the new alliance with the Gorons. However, they mentioned Viscen being the collaborator.

The urge to turn and clarify was hindered by the fact of rational thought coming to a screeching halt. Anger burned in the teen's veins, the emotion surging along his arm into the clenching hand. The apple burst through the hooked fingers, juice and flesh flecking on those nearby. The townsfolk pulled away in shock, the thief turning and stalking away, ignoring the indignant cry for him to pay from the stall owner.

_How does Viscen get credit for my work?! I nearly died in that blasted mountain and everyone sings him praises even though he didn't even breathe in that direction!_ He fumed, long legs eating up the distance to the mansion. The milling shoppers veered from the thief's path without even knowing why. _I'll be damned if those Sages think they can let the people believe this trash!_

_Someone's in a snit._ His inner Monk mocked, but the thief prudently didn't rise to the bait. Arguing with himself was only going to enrage him more.

He burst through the double doors, ignoring the guard's orders to halt. One grabbed onto his arm. Link reacted on instinct, grabbing onto the wrist and throwing the body over his shoulder. The watchman landed with a grunt and the thief turned, eyes shooting daggers at the other man.

"Can I help you?" He asked coldly.

"Sorry, Mikau. We didn't recognize you." The older man held up his hands in a placating gesture, taking a step back. The blue eye twitched and the corner of the thin lips lifted in a sneer and directed the nasty look to the man climbing to his feet.

"Best think afore ya grab a stranger, then." He growled. "I may forget myself and run ya through next time."

He stomped past them, moving up the stairs to Chris's laboratory. The other guards gave the teen a wide berth, their brows furrowed in wary confusion. This wasn't he even-tempered boy they remembered, but no one really wanted to find out what took his place.

Link thundered through the laboratory's entrance, scanning the room for someone, anyone for him to let his temper loose on. The hard sapphire gaze fell on Tris, her slender back towards the teen, the sunset colored wings folded. The woman turned, the brows drawn in bother over the dark eyes. A smile lit her face when she saw Link, pushing away from the counter to greet him.

"My favorite thief! It's good ta see ya well." Tris exclaimed, voice thick like honey on the teen's ears.

"You too." The long ears flushed and he felt a foolish smile spread across the narrow face. The anger faltered beneath the long-held crush. He cleared his throat feeling somewhat off balance as he scanned the room again. "Where're the rest of the Sages?"

"Probably on their way back. Heyla, lookit yer clothes!" She tsked as the brown eyes took in the state of his gear. "Go git outta them. I'll have them cleaned. Ya'll hafta sand yer armor yerself, though."

"I need a stronger dose of potion…it's losen' its kick." The thief informed the woman before dropping the glass flasks on the bench. Tris made a sound of acknowledgment, not surprised that he was gaining a tolerance for the latest batch. She'd upped the dose last time after a note from Narein about Link's condition.

Link was bustled behind a screen without much ceremony, a pair of breeches and a shirt on the chair beside a bucket of water. The teen sighed, dragging off his weapons and armor, tucking it in the pack and attaching the shield. He dumped the leather breeches, tunic and shirt into the basket. Wincing, the teen wiped down his body. It was the closest thing he'd had for a bath in near two weeks.

"Scrub and wet yer hair. I need ta trim it again." Tris ordered, her shadow moving against the white paper screen. Link grumbled, but complied. The buttery locks were still dripping as he donned the clean clothing and walked into the open holding the latest crest. He dropped it on the table, eyes locked on the moth-Shifted.

Tris stood on the balcony, the wind tugging at the auburn curls in their tail. She smiled at the coltish boy, the bandaged hand patting the chair lightly. Link walked over, eyes on the view of Crow Bait Lake at her back. He settled into the high backed chair, still looking at the still black waters until Tris gently guided his head forward. She tied a towel around his neck, combing the soaked locks.

The scissors rasped and snipped, damp clumps plopping on the floor. It was a nice feeling and Link found his mind wandering towards dangerous subjects. He didn't want to think, didn't want to come up with more questions instead of answers.

"Everyone in the town seems ta think that Viscen is behind everything I've done." The blonde blurted. He winced, noticing the childish pitch as the fingers plucking at his hair paused. Anger pulsed and he felt his face color for a completely different reason than Tris playing with his hair. The beat of silence was suddenly uncomfortable. "Y'all want it that way."

"Now, don' go jumpin' ta assumptions." Tris replied, sounding vaguely harried,

"No jumpin' involved." He growled, knowing he was right. "A tiny step an' there they were."

Tris sighed, continuing with his hair. "Don' be like that. It's to protect ya. If everyone knew who wuz goin' around bein' a hero, Ganon wouldn' hesitate ta take ya out."

The blue eyes closed, pain settling in because though they were supposedly taking steps; Ganon still knew he was the one doing all the work. Even if it were for his 'protection', he didn't like the old watchman getting all the recognition. He wanted tribute for all his work. If he was just going to be in the shadows, he wasn't doing another thing for the Sages.

_At least Ganon's not stupid enough for fall for that. He's treating me like a threat as he should._ The teen thought, irony thick on his tongue.

"I dun like it." He groused after a few seconds of steady cutting.

"I'd rather you safe." Tris countered with a gentle tug at his hair. The blonde flushed and couldn't think of a reply. "Yer our secret weapon, Link. I'm taking more off the back. Ya start ta look like a girl with the tail."

Link grunted in concession, emotions warring inside him. Everything seemed out of his hands when a Sage got their hands on him; even his haircut. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was being played. If he could see the guilty tilt of the dark eyes over his head, it would have confirmed them.

The poisonous woman didn't give him a chance to see the discomfort she felt in manipulating him. She kept repeating silently that it was for the greater good. She would rather the filcher safe and anonymous was no lie. However, his actions were far from secret from the Dark King Ganon. The moth-Shifted shook the troubling thoughts from her head gently and finger combed the cut strands from the golden wisps.

"There." She murmured, pleased with the effect as she set down the scissors and picked up a circle of highly polished silver. Tris handed it to Link as she whipped the cloth from the thickening shoulders. "Whatcha think?"

Link stared at his reflection in the polished silver as he stood. The image in it was eerily like the picture from the mansion. The discrepancies had been easily discernable before but had disappeared along with his tail. His bangs had been unruly and thick, where the other had swooped across the brow to the left. The back had been clipped carefully short and shimmered in the sunlight.

Irrational anger burned, his fingers whitening and creaking as they tightened. The teen turned and pitched the offending item far, watching it disappear. Tris made a sound of dismay, the towel slipping from her fingers as she whirled on the teen.

"Link!" she snapped before turning back and leaning over the railing, belatedly remembering the towel. The woman scowled alternately between ground and sky before giving the blonde a confused and injured look. "Whatdjya do that fer, then?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug as he turned away, unsure how to explain the feelings that were welling up inside him. How could he say that it reminded him of a picture that looked like him? That he didn't want to see his face because it reminded him of things he couldn't quite grasp?

The teen was saved from having to dredge up an answer as the doors swung open. Errol and Monk stepped through, heads close together as they spoke quietly.

"I still don't see how you can be so sure…" Errol faded off as the gray gaze flicked up and landed on the hesitating blonde. He grimaced and sighed, throwing a look back. Monk gave a grin and the man grunted and didn't reply. "Welcome back, boy."

"How did you enjoy your first siege?" Monk asked with a smirk. Link felt a frown tug at his lips. Of course Reno told them, he'd gotten back first and would have already reported. It still irked him.

"Did tha old man miss me?" He taunted.

"Oh, you know it." The taller man affirmed with a nasty gleam in the clear blue eyes. "What happened to the horse?"

"Unknowns ate it." The teen ground out from clenched teeth, blood pounding at his temples. Of course he knows what happened to the bloody beast! I know Reno would have told him! "Where's Houlihan?"

"Can't trust you with anything, can I?" the old man snickered, causing Link's long ears to flush. Errol cleared his throat, cutting off the biting remark that played on Link's tongue.

"Chris is in the garden playing with something or other. He wants to see you. We have your next destination." The Mayor nodded to the worktable. The thief glanced in the direction, a little surprised to see a letter in a small clear space among parts. "From Narein."

"Why does he want to see me?" Link grabbed the smudged envelope and tucked it in his pocket, not recognizing the fluid handwriting. "I just git back an' y'all're ready to send me off again?" A frown touched the long face. "Where?"

"Trohsten." Errol answered.

"The Yards?" The blonde couldn't help but echo, pale brows shooting up in surprise. His mind faltered at how the Shift could have transformed the factory city. He remembered the sudden flux of clockwork Unknowns on the Plains and in Dolstrol. _Cripes…I bet they're being mass-produced there! Like bloody hell I wanna go anywhere close! _Voice suspicious as his scarred, calloused hands curled to fists to fight off rising dread. "Why there?"

"The text is deciphered and you must speak to Chris about what it holds for you, Hero." Monk replied with a vindictive tone, as if he could sense the teen's swelling reluctance. The hated nickname caused the filcher's thoughts to jump tracks from reluctance to fury.

"I'm not going a curst place till I read that bloody book!" Link snapped, hand slicing through the air in a gesture of demand. "I'm not gonna heel just cause ya snap an' point!"

"It's a miracle! I do believe you are trying to think for yourself!" The bald man mocked, smile growing sharp and cruel as the blonde bristled. "You would not be alive but for me, be a good boy and do as you are told."

"So ya send me off to end what ya saved!" Link shot back. He wasn't going to be shamed into anything from someone who saved him for convenience sake. "If yer so curst good, why ain't you tha damned hero?" The lanky teen growled, taking quick steps towards the scowling man before Errol moved as if to grab the blonde. Link halted, but gave a feral smile at the careful lack of expression on the bald man's face. The thief's stance relaxed, a smug look erupting over the long face. "But ya aren', are ya? Yer not good enough, wind bag. You _need_ me and it pisses you off."

Monk didn't answer right away, being the one unbalanced for once. Link latched onto the vulnerability like he would at any boss battle. He didn't bother addressing Monk anymore, deeming the man no longer worth notice, turning instead to Errol and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I want the Book in my room. I'll get it with or without your help." He demanded with a dark look, his threat not even veiled. They didn't know what he was truly capable of. If they did, they wouldn't dare cross him to begin with. Errol's face tightened and he gave no sign of compliance, but it was pointless. The teen smirked, knowing he'd won. The blonde turned and walked to the door, swinging the door open and stepping into the hall.

"Wouldn't it be nice to work with me instead of against?" He mockingly threw over his shoulder before letting the door click shut.

--

Link trotted down the stairs in a better mood than before. He ignored the wary looks the watchmen shot in his direction. Their opinion didn't matter to the teen, so he merely basked in his victory. _It's about time they realized who's in charge. They'll not hold me back! I'll lead the Sages to victory!_

The coltish teen almost hummed in pleasure with the scenarios playing out in his mind. He was reveled after a glorious victory over Ganon and returning to Kakariko. Everyone knew of his deeds and valor, throwing celebrations in his honor.

He strode out the side door and into the gardens as he imagined the people begging him for his leadership. His fantasies faltered as he noticed Reno sitting in a flowerbed and watching Houlihan tinker with a metal sphere that looked the size of a kickball. The crazy man was muttering to himself, engrossed in his work.

"Oi-ya!" Reno cried in greeting, leaping up and scurrying across the lawn to jump onto the teen's shoulders. Link grinned and teased the bottom of the long jaw gently.

"What's Houlihan doing?"

"It is done!" Chris cried, standing up with his arms thrown wide and face towards to sky. His proclamation failed to shake the heavens, but it caught the blonde's attention regardless. The green and lens locked on Link, a silly grin touching the long face before he pointed dramatically at the thief. "My apprentice! A tie binds us! It speaks in nothing as sodden as words, but emotions! Your heart aches to perform the task I have waiting!"

Unable to form a coherent sentence, the thief could only let his jaw drop as he tried to comprehend the string of sentences. The mad man wasn't finished, gesturing grandly to the sphere at his feet. He took exaggerated, dancing steps towards Link.

"You always return more willing than you left. I heard that you regretted your action of refusing my last tool. Never fear! I will never leave you wanting again, dear apprentice!" The large, grease stained hands thumped the teen on the shoulders solidly. It took a moment for the teen to realize that he'd grown a few inches. Still at a loss for a reply, the curly-headed man guided the boy towards the inconspicuous looking object. "I am but a servant to the cause, my very thoughts driven on how to make the quest successful. The answer lies in the essence of the daylight, yes! Of life itself!"

Chris stopped and pressed the teen's shoulder to make his silent order 'stay' understood before grabbing the sphere from where it rested in the dirt. He tucked his nails along the sides and the object let out a hiss, handles releasing. The smiling man motioned and Link took the strange contraption in his hands. Reno jumped from his shoulder and Link shot the boy a dirty look. It was obvious that the fox wanted nothing to do with whatever Link held.

_My friend._ He groused silently before turning back to the taller man. He was sure that Houlihan would get the point eventually. "What's this for?"

"Patience my boy!" The large hands waved grandly, a giddy look on the man's face. "This is a Paradox Converter! It links this world to another dimension where the celestial dwell and life is birthed! The whispers of the divine must awaken the blade!" he paused a moment before adding, "Or so I've gathered from the book."

"You're talkin' gibberish Houlihan." Link pointed out in exasperation, shifting the sphere to brace it against a hip. "You're a man of science, not magic."

"Magic works with the realm of possibility, hero. It has rules, limitations and can be hindered by a mind that is closed. Building something from scratch with only your imagination is beyond your grasp, just as sword fighting is beyond mine." Monk lectured from behind Link. Chris was frowning as he made the blonde hold the Converter in two hands once more. "Boundaries of the mind no longer hinder and you have a way to return the power to the blade."

Unnerved but unwilling to appear afraid, the teen steeled against the urge to take a step away. A frown creased the blonde's brow after he deciphered the words. "What's wrong with my sword?"

A fleeting smile graced the long face and Chris took a step back, twiddling his fingers at the Converter. "Quick! I want you to try it! Twist the handles; right clockwise and left counterclockwise."

"Tell me why I have to go to the Yards, first." Link insisted, face set in stubborn lines. Chris looked disappointed, folding his arms over his thin chest in petulance.

"To give your blade power. It isn't charged with the divine light. It's just a tool, nothing more. You need it up to full strength to finish your task." Monk told the teen, knowing Chris would pitch a fit before getting his way. The bald man just wanted to get the experiment over with. "Your secondary mission is to save a Zora engineer that went there for parts."

"Why should I go help a Zora. Isn't that Viscen's job?" The blonde grumbled, hackles going up at being responsible for another creepy species.

"Viscen is currently escorting the children from Dolstrol across the plains. Whose, pray tell, job was _that_?" Monk asked while he inspected his large, dark hands.

Disconcerted and embarrassed, the young man complied. The sphere hummed and whistled, steam exhausting and clockwork ticking from the metal innards. Azure eyes widened as the world shimmered and wavered before his eyes. Reno and Chris disappeared, a world of crystal clarity taking their place.

The edge of the cliff the Mayor's Mansion was situated was fifty yards in front of him. The emerald grass waved in an unfelt wind. A lake of sapphire waters shimmered in the golden light, the wavelets capped with diamond froth. Silver clouds drifted across a cornflower blue sky, a glittering orb set in the sky above him. No scent or sound dwelled in the world of perfection.

Alarmed, he turned his head wildly. Something blurred over his vision, the object an eye searing pink. Whimpering, Link's hand shot up and grabbed the offending thing. He winced, discomfort when his hand grasped it. Further upset, he dragged the item down, eyes widening as he recognized a rabbit ear. The next thing that came to his attention unhinged him.

His hand was a _paw_.

The same eye-smarting shade, tipped with claws. A keening emitted from the long neck, buckteeth curving over the non-existent lips. His little nose worked and he patted his body down, the Paradox Converter hovering without his help. Where a coltish teen had once stood, a lanky rabbit had taken his place.

"A WHORE IN CHURCH!" His voice was a higher pitch and slightly garbled.

The larger eyes were still the same cerulean, but he had a black nose framed by long black whiskers. The fur visible around the long sleeved shirt and breeches were varying shades of pink. The stubby, claw tipped fingers felt the narrow scull topped with long, floppy ears. Link yanked them wildly, panic taking over as he shuffled back from the Converter.

The world shattered after a step, the teen falling on his backside and scooting away from the cursed sphere as the world arranged itself into the one he'd left. Reno was staring at him and Chris had a smug look on his mad face. A panicked check ensured that he was very much human.

"What tha bloody hell was _that_!" Link yelled and slapped his hands on the ground in a flash of temper, fisting his fingers in the thick grass. "I was a _rabbit_!"

"I was a squirrel! I had a big bushy tail and everything!" Houlihan piped up with excitement. The grin that stretched over the long face gave proof on how much the man had enjoyed the experience. A long finger tapped the thin lip in thought. "I still feel an overwhelming urge to harvest nuts and to scold birds…you wouldn't happen to have some walnuts, would you?"

_He just let me go! No 'Oh, by the way…' or anything! _Rage bubbled at the lack of warning. Jaw tightening till it creaked to keep from snapping at the man. However odd the man might be, there was only good intentions dwelling inside the crazed man.

"Did you expect to be a wolf, hero?" Monk droned behind the teen. The thief turned the scalding gaze on the tall, bald man. The dark blue eyes sparked with glee at the teen's obvious discomfort. "You're far too tender hearted to be such a fearsome beast."

"Keep yer thoughts in yer head afore I make it ta where ya don' have 'em at all, old man!" The blonde snapped as he found his feet and directed his attention back to Chris, who looked perplexed. The green eye lit up with a sudden thought, pounding his fist into his palm.

"The Moon Pearl! I knew I was forgetting something!" Chris gave a cheerful smile and knelt to dig in the tool bag at his feet. He came up with a long, green hat. The teen bristled; not liking the direction the conversation was taking them.

"That's no pearl." He growled menacingly.

"I should think not. It's a hat, lad." Chris pointed out in a disappointed tone, as if he had sudden doubts about the boy's intelligence. "The Moon Pearl is inside. For convenience sake, I assure you – not a ploy to get you in the hat." The hurried and placating way Chris added on the last bit made Link doubt the validity. "It will prevent you from Shifting when you go into the other reality."

"Why can't I just hold it?" The blonde asked belligerently.

"Is the hero afraid of a hat?" Monk simpered behind him, earning a nasty look from the thief. The answering innocent expression made Link wonder if the comment had actually been in his head. Nevertheless remark had the desired effect, making Link realize how silly he was acting about a little headgear.

"I just hafta wear it fer a little bit, right?" He tempered after a moments thought and received a triumphant smile from Chris for his pains. The taller man stepped up the teen carefully and arranged the hat over the soft, gold strands. Link endured the ministrations for only a breath before slapping the large hands away. "I got it!"

His fingers brushed the bangs from under the cap, firmly situating the hem behind the longs ears. He ran his finger under the rim, making sure it was snuggly in place before giving a nod. It didn't bother him nearly as much as he thought it would. It felt strangely natural. Of course, any witnesses to him wearing the blasted thing would forfeit their life.

He winced at the eager look Chris gave him as he handed over the Paradox Converter. The taller man took a few hasty steps back, hands nervously stroking one another under his chin. A deft twist of the handles plunged the teen back into the other dimension.

Letting the Converter hover, Link did a quick check to ensure that the Moon Pearl was working. Still human, the teen let out a relieved sigh and returned to Kakariko. Tucking the sphere beneath an arm, he gave a nod.

"It worked." He informed the waiting men, reaching up to drag the hat off. The thief met resistance and paused as his flesh tried to follow the fabric. Warning tickled under his breastbone, fighting to keep calm as he gave a gentle tug. His fingers searched for the seam of the cover, unable to wiggle his finger beneath it. He growled a curse, turning on Chris. "What tha bloody hell is going on? I can't get the curst thing off!"

"Very unfortunate." Houlihan murmured, brows creased as he stepped close and began to yank on the long hat. Link yelped when his scalp protested, more concerned with making the man _stop_ than getting it off. Chris finally relented, fingers fidgeting once more as he considered the boy. "The last hero had difficulties un-equipping the Moon Pearl once it'd been used. Most unexpected…I'd hoped that it wouldn't cling if there wasn't skin contact. Of course, I had no way to know it would work without it either. Really, I could have used it, but I didn't want to be stuck with the hat if it worked."

"Doesn't anything you give me have _warning labels!_ The teen roared and launched towards Chris with hooked fingers. Monk's arms hooked under the blonde's, effectively holding him back from chocking the tall man. The sudden contact shocked Link back to his senses. He didn't go limp, but he no longer fought the man's hold. It _was_ just a cursed hat. No matter how ridiculous it looked, it didn't deserve the fuss he was raising. "Let go, old man. I'm not going to hurt the fool."

Monk's arms slipped free and Link glowered at both men. Monk looked amused and Chris didn't seem to notice anything strange, he had already turned his attention back to the sphere.

"I'll leave at first light!" He informed them as he turned on a heel and stomped back towards the mansion. He winced when claws caught on skin as Reno scrambled up his back to the fox's usual perch.

--

An hour later, Link was rolling a barrel of sand with his mail inside for cleaning. Reno lay on his shoulder, four tails sweeping the teen's back as he read from the Book. He started from the beginning, not stopping when it delved into politics, as per Reno's request.

Reno only half listened, watching the blonde intently. Link's actions were contradicting once more. Reno had heard the argument from Chris's laboratory and couldn't understand why the teen couldn't hold his temper. Monk's knowledge of the siege before Reno had even breathed a word of it was also curious.

Not to mention that Link had always preached anonymity for every job that was done.

He couldn't help but wonder if Link was concerned that when Hask's group arrived. They knew him as Shep and Viscen knew him as Mikau. The Gorons knew him as Shad. Did the thief forget that he made it a twisted knot to tie the deeds back to him by name alone? Surely he'd been aware of this and why he'd started it to begin with. What had changed?

It was those tiny details that were screaming at the fox's instincts.

Reno wasn't stupid. He couldn't be to be a con artist or at least a successful one. He'd been on the road of being one of the best before the Shift. His instincts were more suited for conning than thieving. One had to see clues in behavior to know the next move, when to press and when to relent. It was all about seeing beneath words and behavior, reading unspoken intent and puzzling through the maze of facts and intuition blind.

For all the thief's fuss about his own importance, he hadn't hesitated to gather his own gear and lug it up to the spire. Link wouldn't have even touched the Book if Reno hadn't brought up the subject.

Reno mentally dug for connections and trails. His ears sorted out the conversations throughout the mansion, hoping to find more pieces.

'He threw me without much thought.' A male voice muttered in anger.

'Mikau's acting a bit different, that's fer sure. He never acted above us before.' Another male answered tiredly, the raspy shuffling giving proof to his discomfort.

'I hear he's leaving tomorrow. The sooner tha better, my thoughts. I might the boy ta show him his place." A third growled, a sharp thud announcing an angry strike at an inanimate object.

The fox winced and twitched his ear lightly, switching to another conversation.

'Little hero is getting above his station.' Errol grumbled softly. A feminine sigh and the song of metal and glass wings shuddering accompanied the words.

'He's just growing into a man. You push him too much and he'll make you regret it.' Tris replied, sounding tired and distracted. The gurgling of fluid pouring into a glass container filled the silence. 'I've known him most of his life. Jin raised the boy to be loyal to family and the Lower Levels. To suddenly have to help the Uppers probably gives him ideas. He's no longer just a thief. He's helping those who are above him, why shouldn't he think they are indebted to him?'

'Lower or Upper, this is bigger than Kakariko! The Dark Lord is spreading quickly—'

'No more than before, Errol. He's waiting for something. I feel it in my Shifted body. He plots, he schemes…but he is making no real effort to stop us. Ganon knows of our boy, yet he hasn't tried a frontal assault. Why?'

An impatient huff sounded, but the gentle sounds of Tris brewing her poisons ruled.

'He waits for the boy to move into his castle?' Errol hazard a guess, but seemed more thoughtful than anything. 'The boy is like a hound that will barely heel. If what Monk says is true, then the boy has destroyed three seeds to brew chaos. Why hasn't Ganon acted?'

'I never claimed to know the mind of a madman. I sense him, but nothing more. On my bad days, I actually fight his call and I'm barely Shifted. How must Reno feel?'

'How can the boy read the ancient language? His grasp is far beyond Chris's and he's been studying his entire life.' Errol grumbled, ignoring Tris's musings. A snort met the end of the question.

'Monk's given you his thoughts on the matter.' The woman replied enigmatically.

'I'm more inclined to agree with the boy with that thought. Re-incarnation? How can memories follow one through innumerable years? Even if the boy was merely descended from the same bloodline as the Hero of Time, memories don't follow.' He scoffed.

'It's not your place to agree or not. It makes no matter, in any case. He can, he does and he will continue. Who are you to question what only the Divine could answer if they wish?' Monk's voice interrupted, sounding somewhat bored and tired.

'I thought you hated him?'

'Hate doesn't make us need him any less. Everything is falling into place, just as predicted. If the boy doesn't do something as stupid as dying, we'll be fine.'

'Then the world will go back.' Errol said quietly, desperate hope lacing the soft words.

'It won't bring your father back.' Monk pointed out.

Reno stopped listening, ears flat against his wedged skull. It took a moment for him to realize that Link had stopped speaking. It'd been a steady drone in the background before. The fox kept track of the growing threat of war to a nation several hundred, if not thousands of years, past. The discussion with a princess of possible marriage to a man decades her senior and whispers of unrest had dominated most of the writer's pages.

"What'sh wrong?" Reno asked, pressing his wet nose into the teen's throat lightly. The blonde jumped and cleared his throat, flushing a little in embarrassment.

"Uhh…nothin'." The thief stammered, avoiding the violet gaze. Reno stifled a snort of annoyance. Link was a terrible liar.

_**I asked the hero why he'd tucked the Master Sword back in its pedestal after he defeated the Desert Prince. "Its job was done." The boy answered. He seemed amused by my question and I had to prey to Nayru for patience once more. **_

"_**It's your sword, is it not?" I asked. He shook his head. **_

"_**It belongs to the Hero of Time. It's just a tool to fulfill a duty. A cook doesn't carry around a knife after the meal is done. He puts it back in its holder and only picks it up to begin another meal."**_

_**I cannot help but be surprised. That is the most I've heard the quiet boy say in a sitting.**_

"_**That aside, I couldn't get that curst Moon Pearl to let me remove my belt till after. I'm lucky I had no pockets in my breeches." The boy admitted with a wince. I was surprised and unnerved. I had forgotten the tales of the Moon Pearl affixing to the bearer so it wouldn't be lost or misplaced. It made sense on why he never took off his gear, even in resting.**_

Link remained silent, staring at the pages as if they held the secrets to the world. Reno shifted his weight, feeling the tired tension in the teen.

"So tha hat will come off when tha deed is done." The kit murmured, tails flicking.

The blonde grunted distractedly in agreement, still frowning at the book until he slowly shut it. The soft triangles twitched and the kit huffed in frustration.

"What wuzz tha proffasea?"

"Oh." The azure eyes blinked, focusing on the barrel of sand still held by a foot. "The Hero sets forth to retrieve blade of Evil's Bane/Resting where the lost dwell and time hath no hold/The Master Sword sleeps till its wielder has need/Awaiting to destroy what doth breeds in the Sacred Grove."

The two remained silent, dwelling on the weight behind the simple words. Link shook off the spell first, moving to continue to clean his gear. The fox settled onto the nest of covers, trying to decide if the Sages were really getting their information from the vague writings of a book.

--

OMAKE!!

"Stop fidgeting with the it, hero." Monk ordered.

"It's in the curst way, old man! Let's see if you could see with the damn thing hanging in your face!" Link snapped, sputtering as he huffed to knock the obnoxious obstruction.

"My, my. I thought you could handle it dangling." The old man drawled, watching the teen flush with embarrassment. "If Viscen could see you now."

"This wouldn't have happened if I'd been warned!" He spat back, expression hidden by the floppy hat hanging in front of his face.

"I told you the hat was on backwards." Monk smirked, unable to let the cocky blonde off lightly.

--

A/N: I went camping and I started class. It's hard to be creative when you're learning Radar Range Equations.


	13. Timeless

_**Reading something. **_—Remembering something someone "said" or did.— _Thinking_ **Sensing something **'Reno hearing something from far away'

---------=

Link jerked awake, a cry caught in the back of his lean throat. Whether it was from rage, fear, pain or shock; the teen was clueless. The dream burst into sandy shards, dissipating the in soft winds to soar to the star studded sky. The stolen Malon, a dapple grey gelding with a pitch mane and tail, who Link hadn't bothered naming sighed nearby; a mere silhouette against the brightly lit sky. A delicate ear flicked towards the filcher and away, no longer concerned.

Reno was out pacing the grounds, the teen was sure. The kit took on patrolling the grounds at night for Unknowns while Link rested. During the day, the fox was more silent than usual, a thoughtful and faraway expression clear even on the alien face. Link had no idea what was going on behind those large violet eyes, but weren't nearly as clear and open as they had been before.

It made the thief less inclined to share the tangled mess he'd gleamed from the ruins of Dolstrol and the last paragraph of the book.

The hero's name was Link.

Two other Links, unconnected, had existed. The one in the portrait of Dolstrol wasn't the one from the Book. The one in the Book was a Knight of Hyrule and spent most of his time pleasing a spoiled princess. The one in the ruins of Dolstrol had been one of high standing and had lacked the hard look of discipline.

If anything, the Dolstrol Link had been a bored twit.

How many other Links had passed through time? How many had been puppets of Ganon? How long would it continue? Did they all look like him? Perhaps the correct way to phrase that would be: did _he_ look like _them_? How could he go about finding out?

Link squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the torrent of questions. He knew one to discover the answers. Ganon was the key figure in the entire twisted mess.

His fingers brushed against the hat as he swept his bangs in an impatient gesture. That's why he hated headgear: it stopped him from fidgeting with his hair. He'd always been vain about his hair and had dyed it only out of necessity. Now he couldn't touch it all.

The lanky teen shifted, tucking an arm under his head and opening his eyes in defeat. He'd pushed hard to make it as far as he did today. He judged to be nearly a fourth of the way to the Yards. He wasn't going to drive the blasted horse as hard as he did the bull. He planned to keep the beast alive so he could use it if he needed to again.

His left hand reached out, brushing over the sword hilt first and the bow beside it next, taking comfort in the cold metal. He'd left Kakariko before the ghost of dawn could give birth to its true colors. His traveling clothes had been cleaned and left folded with four potions on top. The only thing Tris couldn't save was the leather breeches: they were no longer black, but had been stained an ash grey.

Link had left behind a letter for Darmon, one he didn't remember writing and barely remembered reading. It'd been a terse update on the town. The bare bones of news and hopes that he was well and the teen could only assume he'd answered in kind. He'd never been one for writing because his talents lay elsewhere.

Chris had offered a collapsible fishing rod, which Link dubiously accepted if only to quiet the chattering fool. At least the rod had a chance to be useful. It was better than the advice of where to use the Paradox Converter.

—"Eeeeh…You'll know when to use it." The tall man said after a moment, nodding wisely. Link's twitch threatened to return.

"That's _it_?" Link growled. "There has to be some way to know!"

"Use your rabbit senses. My squirrel ones have helped me immensely since returning." Chris advised with a smile. The blonde nearly had an apoplexy.—

Leaving had been easier and he was actually looking forward to what he'd find in the Yards. The sooner he faced off Ganon, the better. He had no doubt that everyone would be pleased with his efforts, lavishing him with praise and rupees. The images were sweet and Link let his eyes shut to concentrate on them more.

The visions kept the discomforting dreams at bay, allowing the blonde to drift into a restful sleep.

-----------=

Link awoke on the fifth day, bad tempered and groggy in the weak pre-dawn light. Humidity made the air thick, the chocking scent of the marsh almost too strong to the delicate nose. Reno had stayed close in the night, forfeiting patrol since the land was more likely to swallow the fox in a single misstep.

The terrain began to change on the third day of travel, bright green dulling into drab olive. Where lush grass once spread, patches of dry, brittle weeds rose from grey earth. Dust floated listlessly into the balmy air at every thud of the dapple-gray's hooves. No life dwelled within range of the traveling teen.

The fourth day, the thief had to keep his eyes sharp on the ground. Bits and pieces of the land were proving to be pits of mud. A cloying scent of decaying plants and the tang of metal tainted the winds from the south. Link was hard pressed to find solid by the day's end. Blue-green moss coated over the sink pits, effectively masking it to the unwary.

Black storm clouds crowded the sky, flashes of lightening flaring in the distance. The blonde winced, not looking forward to the potentially soggy day ahead. Trees rose in the distance, barely taking form in the dim light. Great expanses of shallow water cut through the poor grass and shrubbery.

The thief stretched to warm the cold, cramped muscles. Damp clung to clothing and skin, softening the leather of the bridle and his gear. Fire was a distant dream, for dry anything didn't exist in the stinking marsh beyond the small patch of earth. The horse snorted tiredly, shaking the large head in bother. The long legs were coated in the muck up past the knees.

The blonde gave a groaned while putting the tack back on the beast. He mounted up, dragging his body onto the bare back. He settled just behind the withers before taking the reins in his hand while Reno clamored onto his shoulder. The pair was silent as Link turned the quiet dapple-grey towards the distant Yards.

They sloshed through the muck till noon, the trees started to thicken drastically, three buildings had survived the Shift rising high above them. Thin trails of smoke soared above what was left of the Yards like a beacon. The stagnant water brushed the horse's belly and Link kept his long legs tucked up just enough to avoid getting wet and not losing his seat. The thief dozed, the beast moving by instinct through the shallow areas without deviating too much from the course.

The thief woke a few hours later at a bothered snort from the horse. Storm-blue eyes blinked lazily, taking in his surroundings and wondering if he was still dreaming. Silver and copper twisted with the massive trees that blocked the sky. Leaves tinged milky jade sang a metallic tune when the wind disturbed them. The true bark of the trees ranged from ash to black, olive moss and streaks of glowing gold sap giving a striking contrast to the precious metal that twined about it.

The constant tick of clockwork filled the air, though Link couldn't be sure if it was coming from the trees or somewhere else. Steam hissed through the cracks between wood and metal of the trees every few heartbeats. The great plants seemed to lean closer to the travelers as they passed. Link rested his hand on the hilt over his shoulder, ready to draw at the first sign of hostilities. The trees offered none, seeming only to be curious of the strangers passing in their midst.

The muddy ground sucked and clutched at the horse's hooves, the foliage making it impossible to see past the trail the dapple kept them on. Rusted barbed wire and cables wove throughout the vines, the plants leaking black ichor from the never healing wounds. Shrubs were decorated with glass and shreds of thick cloth. Metal glinted all around him and it took a moment for Link's tired mind to understand.

The entire city with the exception of a few buildings had been reduced to the stinking swamp. Link couldn't help but notice that the two buildings that soared above the unnatural forest belonged to former Malo Enterprise. One was a factory still billowing out dark smoke with rust streaking the stack akin to bloody tears. The other was the where the first office he'd broken into dwelled.

Reno made a sound of awe at his back. They didn't speak, though they both tensed as the vines grated and groaned. The plants were always moving, coiling and shifting like thousands of snakes. The thief peered behind him, blood running cold at the sight. Their back trail had been blocked. The great, arching roots of the trees had tangled and woven together. The grinding hiss at his back was the trees actually moving to effectively block his way out.

"A whore in church…" he whispered, eyes growing wide as the fine, damp hairs along his arms fought to stand. He was stuck.

Again.

"Damnit."

Reno growled in agreement, pressing closer to the teen's neck for comfort. Link pulled his sword free, letting the reins drop the beast's neck since it couldn't go anywhere but forward. He shifted his seat carefully, prepared to abandon the gelding if he had to.

The fine hairs along Link's flesh stood on end, the sense of the marsh being alive far more prominent than before. He could feel eyes locked on his form. The sense that a figure breathed down his neck increasing with each steady step the gelding took.

The horse had no issues following the path that curved and shifted with every plodding stride. They'd left the muck and now traveled on hard packed, dry earth. The thief narrowed the azure orbs, seeing a large tree with limbs hanging long enough to brush the ground. Thicker branches were buried deep in the earth, seemingly supporting the massive tree.

Discomfort wove through the teen's veins. He didn't want anything to do with the approaching clearing. The tree was on the far edge of it, but still imposing despite the distance. Link reined in the gelding before it could step into the open area.

Nothing moved, but it didn't raise any confidence that nothing awaited him. The groan of vines and metal twisting against another announced that their escape was closing whether he wanted it to or not.

The ground shivered and trembled beneath the thick black hooves. The gelding jerked his head, not enjoying the sensation at all. He pranced into the clearing, feeling the rider gather and leap off the back before the buried limbs shot from the ground to skewer the poor beast in his tracks.

The dying scream from the gelding made the teen's flesh crawl. Link turned and swept his blade out, ripping through the spearing branches easily where to sprouted from the earth. Wincing since it was too late to save his ride, the filcher turned his attention back to his current problem.

The Kira-ki's limbs were flailing about menacingly, striking the ground on either side of the teen. Link jerked and jumped from the deadly appendages, cutting them down with his blade when they hesitated after hitting the ground. Cursing and spitting as he tried to find a safe place to retreat and plan.

The Kira-ki's reach was too long and made that hope impossible. Link pulled off his shield, raising it just in time to absorb the shock of a nasty blow. His shoulder roared a breath before going numb, the shield dropping a little. The cerulean eyes widened at the ebony streak rushing towards him, the thief jerking his head back in response.

Pain seared his forehead, burning chasing the sudden sensation of blood flowing freely against his skin. Link fell backwards, sweeping his blade up and managing to severe the next reaching limb before it could do any damage. Shield arm near useless, the blonde back pedaled, breath coming in hard gasps of panic and pain.

"UNDER YOU!" Reno warned, though Link couldn't pinpoint where the fox was hiding.

The lanky teen rolled, shield left behind and blood burning his eyes as it poured from the wound. Scrambling to his feet and shaking the blood from his bangs and eyes, he clipped another limb at Reno's instruction. He no longer thought of where to move, body reacting easily to the fox's called instructions.

The almost crippling fear receded to levels he'd grown accustomed to handling. He took advantage of the lull of emotion and thought, eyeing the tree and the surrounding area through flailing limbs. The glint of clockwork was visible in the depths of a knot the size of Link's hand. Dim memories of destroying the clockwork armor by jamming the gears surfaced through chaotic thoughts.

_I could jam the sword in there, but I want the curst thing in one piece! The clawshot is chains and won't do much good…boomerang is wood and the arrows are light metal and wouldn't hold. _Ducking and rolling at Reno's command, the teen paused long enough to scoop up his shield. The next strike numbed his arm once more, but he held the shield fast. _Bombs!_

"Going in!" The thief yelled in triumph as he hitched the shield on his back and sliding under a thick branch. His bruised and battered muscles tensed, energy dragged from somewhere deep inside as he exploded into movement.

Link wove through the flailing limbs, boots digging deep into the ground. His calves bunched and released, straining to move him faster than the clockwork tree. The whip thin limbs whizzed past his flesh. The wind actually cut his skin, blood blooming along the thin slits. He yanked a bomb from the bag on his hip, jumping over a sweeping appendage and ducking under the next.

He ripped off the striker with his teeth, the fuse sparking to life. He jammed his hand into the clawshot as he shoved the bomb into the gapping hole in the trunk. Side-stepping a snapping branch, Link barely took the time to aim the clawshot before pulling the trigger.

His body flew from the tree's reach, releasing the trigger and rolling to a stop. Scrambling on all fours, the teen braced his back against a tree that isolated the Kira-ki's clearing. Holding the shield before him, the blonde hunched as much as possible as the bomb exploded.

The shock wave from the blast slammed him hard against the tree. Debris pounded against the shield, pain erupting in his calves and thighs that couldn't fit behind the barrier. Harsh rasping roared in his ears over the high pitched ringing. He felt something warm trickle down his ear and throat but merely peeked over the top of his shield.

Kira-ki was nothing but a twisted stump of twisted metal and gears. The clearing's surrounding trees now bowed outward from the strength of the wave. The blonde looked around curiously before he realized the halting thunder he heard was his breathing. A curious ringing accompanied it, blocking out the rest of the world.

He reached up slowly and touched his throat, fingers coming away with scarlet stains. He blinked and fell back, his legs screaming in pain. Shards of metal protruded from the muscles, the blood staining the ashy leather.

Link knew he needed to heal. He couldn't take the potion without removing the metal first. The tree hadn't ashed, which was troubling. Would the potion heal the shards as a part of him? It was a disturbing though, to look Shifted when he wasn't.

He grabbed onto the largest pieces, sweaty fingers slipping a moment before finding purchase. He yanked it free, head spinning in pain as blood flowed freely.

He took deep breaths, leaning against the tree at his back. Sparks erupted in his vision as he felt and removed another with a deft pull. The azure eyes were feverish as they flicked to the sky that was barely visible between the branches twined. He methodically removed the larger pieces, howling in pain after each one.

He nearly swooned; eyes' fluttering after the sixth piece was freed. There was no more breath to scream, though his raw throat worked despite it. He couldn't bring his hand up to try to find the next shard. A weak gasp mustered what remained of his resolve. He finally reached up once more, surprised when his hands only encountered torn leather and gritty blood.

The cerulean eyes slowly lowered, relief rushing when he saw what remained of the tree had finally ashed. Relief was nearly as heady as the pain, eyes rolling up for a moment as he fought the urge to allow the darkness to swallow him.

Whimpering, the teen stretched out his legs as he wrestled with the bottle of potion on his hip. He worked the cork free with his thumb, pouring half the concoction down his throat. After a gasping breath, he tilted the bottle so the rest followed. Tingling rushed through his body, the muscles of his legs twitching madly as the wounds sealed.

His head burst, colored fire dancing before his eyes. The hissing tick of the forest filled his long ears once more, he blood fizzing and popping in his veins. The respite was fleeting, because soon his stomach rebelled. Link flopped to the forest floor, bile roiling through his just healed throat to spill on the dirt.

A cold sweat broke over his skin, his muscles beginning to spasm. His mind couldn't string together a coherent thought, the last of the contents of his stomach dribbling from his lips. Teeth began to chatter, eyes rolling as he shivered and shook wildly. Air refused to enter his lungs, no matter how desperately he tried to drag it in.

The blonde's body continued to jerk and seize, time losing meaning as darkness finally swamped him.

-----------=

Reno sat beside the teen's body, coming out of hiding in the tree when the tree finally ashed. The redhead wondered if he should be ashamed of his behavior. The thought of leaving Link behind to deal with the Unknown had actually occurred to him. Hidden and safe, the fox had mulled over his options before finally deciding it was better to stick with the teen. He'd listened to the ordered cried by the Unknowns and felt the in his bones what the Kira-ki would do next and relayed it to Link.

Tucking his front paws beneath the metal and flesh chest, Reno decided it didn't much matter either way. The rational, or one might call practical, part of his brain pointed out that he was normally more of a hindrance than help in fights. It was that same part of him that pointed out that there wasn't much reason in fretting over the blonde when he was still breathing, never mind how long the teen had been sleeping.

_He's emptied his stomach, he has._ The fox thought as he watched another dry heave wrack the lanky thief's body. The soft triangles picked up on the saliva gurgling harmlessly at the back of the straining throat. _Else I'd worry he'd drown on his own breakfast, the crazy jock._

The kit's tails drummed on the ground in a thoughtful matter, jagged bolts streaking through the black clouds crowding the sky. Thunder cracked and shuddered the air barely a blink after. The sharp little ears flick in distaste, but offered no other reaction beyond that.

The air was crowded with the hissing laughter of Unknowns. It mingled with the chiming click of the forest, but the fox easily put it from his mind. He'd been haunted by the chatter since they began to approach the twisted wood. He'd kept silent, trying to find the source.

The voice whispered and crooned as if murmured by a crazed man at all angles. No beginning or end, the words lay just on the side of undecipherable until they'd been led to the Kira-ki. They circled the travelers and distracted the violet-eyed fox. Strangely enough, no real worry touched the fox at the mystery presented.

The tails flicked once more, little black nose working to take in the scents.

Link began to stir, drawing the fox from his musing for a moment. The lids revealed murky azure eyes, mouth closing slowly and smacking to gather moisture. The long face was covered with vomit, snot, tears, blood and spit. He gave a weak groan and rolled onto his side, looking at the kit miserably.

"How long I been out?" He asked tiredly.

Reno remained quiet, violet eyes unreadable as he watched the teen. Relief welled up and the fox let out a sigh as something eased. He'd been dispassionate about the loss of life since the siege. Death was never a stranger to Reno's life. It happened on the Lower Levels all the time. Sometimes peaceful like and others violent and sudden, like the one that took both of his parents when a robbery went bad and the Provost burned them.

At the ruins he hadn't had a chance to know the orphans, seeing as he spent most of his nights chasing the Unknowns to bring back information and his days sleeping. Their deaths hadn't been of much consequence. Again, his practical self told him that those lives were fleeting at most and not worth tears.

He'd shed them over the remains of the Gorons left to smolder in a mountain of fire. Quietly, after he'd been safe sleeping beside Link as he healed.

What that meant, the fox wasn't interested enough to delve too deeply into. He felt some affection for Trisana. Amused tolerance for Chris Houlihan and grudging respect for Errol and Monk. He no longer felt the urges to wander about the Lower Levelers. A familiar, yet new wariness replaced friendliness he'd once felt for the guards. Then there was Link.

His hate for the thief had not lessened, but it had not grown. It was a constant companion, along with Ganondorf's call in the back of his mind. It clashed and lost against the simple affection the boy held for the young man.

"A couple hoursh." He finally answered, licking the long nose gently. Link made a face and pulled away, touching his face gently with a grimace at the fluids caking it.

"Uugh." The filcher managed, pushing his body up with his arms slowly. "Whot 'appeened?"

"Dunno." Reno replied truthfully, his brow knitting since he had his suspicions but didn't know if he should share them. The distant, disquieting emotions had settled and he felt more assured now that the blonde was awake. They could get moving and save the zora engineer and be done with the whole mess. The Voice would drive him mad, he was sure. "Ya okay?"

"Meh. I'll live…but…not happily…I think." He muttered and the fox's ears flicked at the uncertain tone. Link sounded sloshed, as if he couldn't quite think straight. The lanky thief cleared his throat with a wince.

"Better grub. Ya've yacked yer belly clear." Reno advised with a panting laugh. The thief groaned in answer, as if it was the last thing on his mind to put something back _in_.

"Tha horse?"

"Dead shtill." The fox informed him, sounding amused that the teen would bother to ask.

"Cripes. I have tha worst luck with tha beasts." Link moaned and seemed more upset that transportation had been lost than anything else.

Reno decided it would be wise not to reply.

------------=

"Curst Unknowns!" Link roared into the air, jamming his hands into his clawshots. "Leave me BE!"

Link had visibly lost all patience. The fox was surprised that he couldn't hear the crack as his tolerance snapped and the long face twisted in rage. Clinging onto the teen's shoulder as he shuffled through the thigh deep water to gain a better stance as he crossed his arms over his chest, clawshots aimed at the advancing swamp lizard clockwork Unknowns

The twin clawshots attached to the Unknowns, the beasts barely noticed as they were advancing on the trapped teen. The thief began to reel them in, finally gaining their notice. They thrashed as they were yanked from the water to skim its surface. Link released the claws after a few seconds; hooking the clawshots back onto his belt and taking a step back to avoid the heavy collision he instigated. He stepped forward and drew his sword and carved the top half of the crushed mass completely off with a careless stroke. They dusted as the blade slid through, their remains floating idly on the muck's surface.

The teen panted for a moment, looking about the filthy water for something to lean against. Reno adjusted his weight on the unsteady shoulders, watching the blonde with perked up ears. They had been trudging through the stagnant water for nearly three hours. The Unknowns had attacked halfway across, forcing Reno to take part in distracting them until Link devised a plan.

It wouldn't had been so bad if 'distracting' hadn't been Reno jumping on top of yawning maws and lead them on a merry chase. If he'd had any say in the matter, he'd been safe on the sidelines. The Voice had earned the fox's enmity when it had put the redhead in danger.

"We're alone?" The thief asked, dark eyes flicking about the water to ensure the stillness. Reno made a sound of affirmative, wondering over Link's sudden strength.

Even with the swamp lizards' weight to counter each other and Link as the anchor, the blonde shouldn't have been able to stand the strain. Better yet, Reno should have felt the strain as he sat on the teen's shoulder. His arms should have been pulled from their sockets, sweat slicking his skin or groans of stress and pain slipping free. Link was exhausted, but he'd been fighting for the past two hours. Steady fights, just enough to keep him busy and make it hard to advance.

Reno was glad he had bullied Link into eating after the Kira-ki. They had held their breath, both visibly pleased when the teen managed to keep the cheese and hard biscuits down. The sky opened up not long after, soaking the teen within a few beats of the downpour. The only good thing was that the blonde could finally clean his face of the congealed fluids that resisted his earlier efforts. Reno flattened his body down on the teen's shoulder, his fur soaking up the water better than a sponge and dampening his spirits. It drizzled to nothing thirty minutes later and started up sporadically since then, making traveling less than comfortable for the pair.

The dry ground worked better than his fur, taking the wetness deep and holding firm. The trees had thinned out, the wall of vines creating the passages and eventually forcing them into them into the swamp.

"If I didn' know better. I'd think this place was trying to kill me!" Link growled after a moment, jamming his sword back into the sheath and trudging towards the exit. It was a few hundred yards ahead. "More than usual, I mean…"

"You've alwayzz been shooo loved." Reno replied dryly, claws flexing to find purchase in the mail just under the canvas tunic. The clouds chose that moment to add their own opinion; drops making a whispering shush against the pool's surface. The kit's ears flattened in distaste. "Or not."

The blonde grunted in agreement, sword hand clenching the hilt as he worked his way towards shore. He was, in Reno's opinion, making better time than he had a right to considering the shape the thief was in.

"Right." Reno murmured, ear flicked towards the disturbance in the water. It seemed that the swamp lizards were taking to stealth instead of an outright attack. Even the Voice was silent, the anticipation thick in the air.

Link drew his blade, not ceasing the steady rhythm of churning strides. The four tails thrummed gently against the teen's back, slowly stilling as the Unknown swam closer. There was only a breathe of hesitation from the thief before the sword rasped free and was jammed into the muck.

The water churned chaotically, a metal tail flicking spray until Link gave a deft twist and turned it to dust. The sodden fur on the fox's back tried to lift and he cried out a warning as a metallic bird swoops from the branches, wicked talons extended. The thief twisted his torso, yanking his sword from the mud. He swept it up, cutting the Unknown in half before it could strike the fox.

The pair panted as Link began his hasty shuffle towards the shore once more, leaving growled obscenities in his wake.

Reno didn't feel much more beyond relief as safety grew closer. He doesn't even thank Link, not that the teen even notices. The fox can't believe how powerful the blonde has gotten and can't help but question where he got it.

Or what Link will do with it.

-----------=

Link crashed through the ruins of the twisted metal and vegetation that had been dictating his moves nearly from the first time he stepped into the cursed swamp. Solid ground was a blessing, but the teen was tired of being led around by the nose. His muscles burned with fatigue, but not enough to slow him down. No more, he wasn't going to be a placid mudlark anymore!

His anger melted as he stepped into a clear grassy area that had obviously been a child's playground. It was strange, but he didn't feel much point into holding onto it much. Peace teased the edges of his thoughts and Link let it sink into his troubled mind. It was a soothing balm and he could finally think clearly for the first time in ages.

His boots squelched on the barely solid ground. Grass brushed his thighs, clinging to the muck that encased his thighs and leaving streaks of darkness against the bright green. Rain still drizzled down, though it seemed gentler in the place he'd found. More comforting than a hindrance, whispering against the grass and making the unused Jungle Toy glisten in the weak light.

In spite of the Shift and desolation of the Yards, nothing on the playground is rusted or falling apart. The metal is spotless as if new, the swing seats still intact and moving listlessly. The clearing remained unaffected by the trappings of time.

"'Where time hath no hold'…" Link quoted quietly.

A gentle sigh caused the teen to look down at the fox. The wet triangles were flat against the wedge head, eyes filled with relief. The violet gaze flicked up and seemed to soften at the question held in the blue eyes.

"Shilenshe." The kit breathed, settling on his haunches. The blonde gave a brief smile since the sounds of the clockwork swamp seemed to disappear. Mayhap it was the sounds and voices of the Unknowns the fox spoke of.

_I'll know when to use it, huh? Cripes. Who'd've thought that cracked nut would be right?_ Link thought with a tired sigh. The thief trudged forward, shrugging the pack off his back without disturbing the other gear.

The Paradox Converter seemed lighter than usual in the weapon-scarred fingers. Link stopped before a tall slide, his instincts settling into place. Everything seemed to click and he let another sigh loose. The handles unhinged and he gave a deft twist, his mind lost in memories not his own.

The rain stilled and he was in the world of unearthly beauty and purity. His chest burned, but he couldn't name why. Yearning and trepidation made his blood thick and movements slow. Beneath his dirty boots was stone that shimmered with warmth from the loving light from above. The smut from his boots left darkness upon the pureness, making him want to weep.

A small pedestal with the Triforce etched into its face a mere step away. Mist dwelled in the world around him, the only clear spot being where the shaft of light burned it to nothing to strike against the stone platform.

Taking his hands from the Paradox Converter to leave it to hover, he drew the blade in a tranquil motion. The song of the curious steel erupted in the air, amplifying in the fog instead of being swallowed. He twirled the blade in his hand; eyes locked on the pedestal as he moved carefully around the Converter and took aim. Holding the hilt between both hands, he slammed the blade into the raised stone.

Hot, bright light flared when the blade sank home. Color rushed back into the cross-guard, becoming a deep purple and the obsidian jewel that topped the pommel glowed yellow. He felt, more than saw, the Triforce of his hand flare into life in answer. Energy flowed up the long arm and touched something deep in the teen's mind.

Peace and comfort was overwhelming, causing the blue eyes to shut as tranquility eased into his limbs. The blade no longer slept in his grip, but was gloriously alive. The images continued to flare behind the lids, melting into his reality. It was many eyes opening at once, taking in scenery from different times in unison. He was every hero that existed and every hero that would come.

_Master Sword._

The name came to him, unbidden. Evil's Bane. The blade of the Hero of Time, whom had ironically, been forgotten by its heedless march.

The sword slid from the stone, the blade maintaining a silver shimmer from being encased in the stone. Power coursed through the weapon, tickling his palm through the leather. Link jabbed the sword into the air, the tip piercing through the current reality and into the original.

Clockwork screamed and steam hissed, the Paradox Converter unable to operate with the sudden influx of magic. The barrier fell, the Converter crunching sharply as it imploded into a lumpy mass of gears and metal plates.

The world Link knew flashed into view, sunlight breaking through the clouds for a moment to kiss the beloved blade. The light was swallowed once more, Link tucking the Master Sword back in its sheathe.

Reno stood before him, violet eyes watching with a certain amount of calculation and pride. The four tails flicked only once before the fox gave a shallow nod and turning back to the path Link had carved.

---------=

Link found no more patience to be calmly herded through the swamps. He ripped through the vines and metal with little effort. The mire seemed to have little patience for the attitude and wasn't passive.

The vines, trees and tangled metal cables whipped out in retaliation. The pipes and vines lashed out randomly, easily pacified by the newly charged blade in the scarred hands. In effect, the blonde was actively fighting the clockwork Unknowns that dwelled in the passages and the maze at the same time.

Half finished clockwork was propelled from wide ducts, aimed with more accuracy than they had a right for. Link paid it all little more attention than to ensure it didn't become anything other than a hindrance. He continued a steady path towards the still operational factory; the smoke stacks still spewing smut the signal.

The thief broke into the courtyard before the building that had once housed Malo Enterprise's president, Gorman. It was the first place he'd broken into when he'd arrived in the Yards forever ago. It looked very much the same as when he'd first slipped past the guards and into a frustratingly clean office.

There weren't guards now. The entire bog at his back seemed to have fallen into silence, drawing away from the factory. The rain had even ceased to fall, the sky still an angry grey over their heads. It worried the teen. He felt like he was walking into a trap. He even had trouble remembering why he came into the blasted swamp to begin with.

Oh, yes. Something about a zora engineer getting lost in the mire looking for parts of some sort. He hadn't seen hide, nor hair of another living beast that wasn't fully metal in the entire living maze. He doubted that the zora was still around, if it was ever there at all.

Link stared at the doors, mistrusting the sudden calm that reigned about him. Twinges of pain from wounds he'd never noticed flared to life. His ribs gave a twinge from a blow from a thrown Unknown he couldn't quite dodge. There were probably a couple of cracked ones knowing his luck. Scarred fingers brushed over them gently, wondering if he should heal with a quick gulp from the potion.

Grimacing, he decided to chance a quick healing. His luck had seemed to really hit the pits as of late. The last thing he needed to do was reach a real nasty Unknown still ailing from his trek through the mire. He did have a suspicion that the potion had given him a fit last time.

He pulled out the next full bottle, shaking the contents lightly. The blood thick fluid caught and held the light greedily. A soft sigh escaped the thief, a wince accompanying the movement of his unhappy ribcage. He thumbed off the stopper and taking a quick gulp.

The bitter potion drained down his throat to splash heavily in his stomach. His muscles began to shudder, the small wounds sealing up nicely. His ribs groaned and cracked, the factures fusing together. His body burned, the temperature turning up to burn out infection.

Falling to his knees, the blonde clutched at his stomach as he felt the dizziness overwhelm him. His mind danced away from thought and he retched the contents of his stomach. A groan escaped his lips as the lanky teen fell onto his side, curling up next to the mess while he trembled and twitched.

Link finally pushed off the ground after his fit subsided. His jaw found relief as he stopped clenching his teeth. He'd stayed awake during the episode, suggesting that the last time had been an overdose. He was going to have to take smaller sips of the now lethal potion to ensure he didn't kill himself.

Reno watched beside the double doors that led to the office buildings of the factory. The violet eyes were narrowed, the sharp face neutral and tails flicking thoughtlessly. He scrubbed the tears and snot from his face; pushing off the ground and unsteadily found his feet.

"Enjoy the show?" He groaned after a moment, taking unsteady steps towards the doors. He scanned the overcast sky, noticing he'd barely been out long enough for the sun to move. A quick check ensured that none of his equipment had come loose during the little episode.

The fox didn't answer and the joke fell flat. Link brushed past the Shifted boy and pushed open the door. It creaked loudly, opening to a swallowing darkness. Taking a deep breath, the teen entered the building to leave the light behind.

------=

After his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he'd found torches lining the walls and had lit them with the flint. The flame blossomed beautifully and drove the darkness back. Link dragged out the map and smiled as the bit of leather had already adapted for the building. The interior hadn't changed from the last time the thief had tread the halls and tucked it back away.

Beyond the keese that were easy to take out with his slingshot, there weren't any Unknowns to deter him from his goal: Gorman's office.

The door was closed in the narrow hallway, the two suits of armor still standing guard. Link frowned, not wanting to face the magical suits today. He pulled free his sword and dropped the torch so it wouldn't hinder him in case of a fight. He moved towards the suits, shield and sword ready.

They both continued to be inanimate as he approached, but Link attacked them anyway. He sent both of them crashing like the empty shells they were, now content that they weren't going to awaken and do damage. A snort of annoyance was all the attention Link gave them after, opening the door and swinging it wide.

A red film covered the open doorway, the gold image of a halberd shimmering in the barrier. Link gave it a dark look, suspicion creeping up in the back of his mind. He ignored the clamoring instincts and the sudden itch of the Master Sword in his hand. He passed through the curtain and into the office of the man he'd already stolen from once.

Gorman sat at his metal desk, hand folded politely before him and beady eyes holding a rather bored look. Bushy black eyebrows winged out over them, an impressive mustache sweeping up beneath an impressive nose and hiding the mouth. His red vest had patterns sewn into it with gold thread, the long sleeved navy blue shirt unwrinkled beneath it. Rings of gold glittered on every finger and his hair was obviously leaving him in the worst way. The thin strands were combed over the bald dome in a pathetic attempt to hide it.

"I was told you would come. You certainly took your time, Thief." Gorman pointed out in a bored tone. Link couldn't help but notice that the man was unremarkable in every way. His voice didn't even warrant much attention. The blonde could have easily passed the man on the street and not give the man much notice, fancy clothes or none. "I think it is wonderful that people are always warning me of your visits."

Link's sandy brows rose at comments, not sure what to make of the well dressed man sitting politely behind the desk. Was he being goaded into dropping his guard?

"Who told you I was coming?" The filcher finally asked, not taking any more steps into the office. The azure gaze took note of the subtle changes since the last time he'd been in the office. Pipes of varying sizes made up the ceiling, the walls were now bare and cables seemed to nest along the floor just beyond the desk.

"Why, that would be telling, would it not?" Gorman replied with a polite smile. "Let me just say that the guilty parties are far closer to you than you think."

Link gave a rude snort, not liking riddles or vague answers. He had better things to do with his time. The polite smile faltered and Link twirled the Master Sword in his left hand idly to draw attention to it.

The beady eyes did as commanded but went right back to the glittering cerulean eyes without much change in expression. Link wondered if he should take a step closer and try to intimidate the man, but decided it wasn't the time. He didn't come here to kill the old man. He came to find a zora.

"Leaving without this?" Gorman asked quietly when Link turned to leave. The blonde turned his head, watching the hand disappear behind the desk. Link turned back around and held up his shield; ready to attack when the hand reappeared with a gaudy crest. The crest was set on the desk with a muted click, the blue eyes never leaving the bit as it was slid gently towards him.

Link frowned, not trusting the old man and thoughtlessly shifting his feet into a defensive stance. The hairs along his neck stood up as the air seemed to get thicker. For the first time since he stepped into the building, he realized that Reno hadn't followed him. What had made the fox stay behind?

The door behind him slammed and Link felt annoyance swell at the finality of the sound. The fox hadn't followed because he knew that Link was going to have to face the bastard before him. Betrayal touched the teen's mind first, followed by an overwhelming sense of rage at Gorman. _Who does he think he is? He's just a little human and he thinks he can take me down? Cripes! I've ripped apart nastier things in this curst swamp than a desk chimp!_

Gorman gave a smirk at the sudden shift of expression of the thief. There was no longer an uncaring look on the long face, but one of dawning wrath. The eyes narrowed and lips pulled back from teeth as he strode towards the president. Gorman cocked his head, amused that the teen would underestimate him so completely.

A sudden movement in the air alerted the thief as he jumped to the side. His shield rose, deflecting a glancing blow from a pipe that dislodged from the ceiling to strike at the teen. The pipe struck the wall, crushing the drywall and creating a cloud of dust. Link would have thought it was just luck, but the pipe swung back out of its own violation.

It caught the thief in the chest, slamming the young man into the wall next. Ribs groaned and fractured under the pressure, Link spewing as he bounced off the all and onto the floor. Clockwork clanked, metal groaned and steam hissed; causing the thief to force his eyes open. He watched as Gorman's desk broke down, his body rise in the air and the very foundations of the factory shake in anticipation.

Gorman had nothing from the waist down; his body was a clockwork spider built from parts of the desk. The walls of the office expanded, the ceiling soaring upward to make space. Link struggled to his feet, eyes darting every which way at once.

_A whore in church! I'm not just fighting him! I'm fighting the entire cursed swamp! He's been doing his damnedest to kill me this entire time! He's the one manufacturing the clockwork Unknowns… _Link dodged a long, thin leg and rolled to his feet. Hooking the shield to his back, he grabbed the Master Sword with both hands, jumping back from another strike.

"Oh-ho! You're a fast one, boy! How long can you keep it up?" Gorman howled, the floor buckling beneath the teen. Clanking steps sounded behind the filcher. Link chanced a look and felt like banging his head on the floor to see the two suits of armor striding towards him.

His palms burned where they gripped the hilt of the Master Sword. The teen gritted his teeth, tightening his grip as the resolve bubbled up within him. Who cared if he was going against a massive enemy? He could handle it. He could handle anything. He was that good.

A feral grin lit the long face and he charged towards the two suits of armor. They raised their blades, but Link dove under the first swing. He rolled around the armor and swept his sword up and carved the armor in half. The other armor sliced down, Link raising his arm automatically and catching the strike on his bracer. He cleaved the blade in half, doubling back on the swing and hewing it in half.

Ash swirled around the teen as he rolled out of the way of Gorman's spider leg. He sliced through the offending appendage as it landed, leaping up to run beneath the clockwork Unknowns being thrown towards him. He danced between the pipes and cables that whipped towards him. Power beat in his veins, it vibrated in his muscles. He tapped that wild energy, plying it for his use.

The bow would be the obvious choice of weapon to reach the soft fleshy part of Gorman. He wasn't going to get the chance to use it against the man if he had to dodge every few seconds. His abilities with the bow were good, but not _that_ good.

The Master Sword cut through the obstacles, a blur in his hands. The body was rebuilding itself; no matter how much damage Link did to it. The severed limbs melded back in place and the dismembered cables still flailed wildly, attempting to trap the teen.

Link ran towards the wall, his momentum carrying up the vertical surface. Dry wall exploded behind him, Gorman roaring as he pounded the thief's wake. Link back flipped off the wall, reaching out and grabbing onto a leg and swung into the air. Gorman's face was contorted with rage.

Link clipped off swinging appendages and tore through the obstructions Gorman threw at him. Landing on the platform mass, Link darted towards the soft human body at its center. He rolled and dodged the legs that ripped through the metal body in an effort to impale the lanky teen. Jamming his right hand into a clawshot, Link drew it up and took a breath to aim. The claw exploded forth and latched onto Gorman's face. Propelled towards the man, Link held the Master Sword accordingly and ran Gorman through.

The clawshot released as his fingers slipped from the triggers. The great meal body paused in shock, the raspy, wet breath of the skewered Gorman the only sound. Despite the burning of his hands, Link kept the feral grin in place.

Gorman gave a bloody smile, eyes crazed and red. "The Sages betrayed you once. They'll do it again. How do you think I knew you were coming the first time? They told me. You play their tune prettily, little thief. You answered Lord Ganon's call once. You'll do it again."

The human part of Gorman's body burst to ash, leaving Link in the middle of the mess he'd made of the facility. Link sheathed the sword as he turned his face towards the ceiling and felt the world begin to tremble and shatter about him. A sigh escaped the exhausted filcher as he scooped up the crest and tucked it in his tunic.

"Of course. It would collapse on me."

-------=

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took so long. There are a lot of personal things going on in Bob's and my lives at the moment. The drama just keeps adding up. The saddest part is my cat, Midna, ran away (most likely to pass away). She was only a year and a half old, which makes it harder for me to deal with. She was sick though and knew that it was her time.

Anyway!

Reno is Rex…I guess I didn't make that clear enough. Reno wanted to change his name and be a dashing thief like his hero. Of course Link would smile and indulge his friend. I tried to give him more of a chance at the forefront at this chapter.

I was pleased to finally trap our Link in a hat, too. ^-^ I've been fretting how to do that since the beginning.

I was worried about the kids being a pain in that chapter. The good news is that you'll only hear from Kessler, Hask, Striker, Razer, Reaper and the little one again. Corbin will be making another appearance and Viscen, too.

I'm sorry that the horse scene was hard for you to read. I'm betting this one wasn't much easier. I have a lot of love for horses and it was hard to not make Link a wonderful horseman. If I did, he'd just be like every other Link and I couldn't have that. I think horses will refuse to carry him from here on out. He'll wipe out Kakariko's stock otherwise.


	14. Egotistical

**Reading something**. —Remembering something someone "said" or did.— _Thinking _**Sensing something **'Reno hearing something from far away'

---------=

Link jumped and slid down the wreckage of Gorman's body. His ribs protested the strenuous movements, the teen grunting with pain as he landed hard on the buckling floor. He stumbled towards the back wall, a part having fallen open to reveal the world just on the other side. The ceiling crumbled down, stopping the lanky teen as his way out was blocked. A curse fought at the back of his throat, gaze casting about wildly for another way out.

"Link!" Reno's voice made the blonde snap around. The kit floated in a blue magic portal, looking mildly agitated at his predicament. The thief didn't waste any time wondering over how or why the fox was there, he just ran towards it.

Pain erupted in his shoulder, part of the ceiling knocking the teen off balance and he stumbled into the light. His body lifted into the air, the world around him crashing down. Sapphire light overwhelmed his vision, piercing even the closed lids. The world faded into darkness, Link and Reno in the copse.

He finally felt his body ascending, boots lightly touching the soggy earth. Link opened his eyes to the thick cloud rising over the still collapsing factory. Explosions sounded in the distance, light blooming in the muted twilight. The faint sound of thunder mingled with the din of destruction.

The rain was a deluge about his still figure. Reno jumped onto the shoulder, silent. The thick covering of rain clouds finally snuffed the last of the daylight; the only light left was the flickering of fires and lightning.

Link held his hands out, palm up to gather the rainwater to sooth his sore palms. The cool water soaked through the leather, bringing some relief while the teen stewed in his thoughts. It was obvious that he shouldn't take any words from the late Gorman seriously. Why would the Sages betray him?

What would honestly stop them from betraying him?

Clenching his hands into fists in spite of the pain, Link did an abrupt about face to divine where exactly he was. . The teen finally pulled out the half empty bottle and began to slowly sip the contents. The slow sips made the healing sluggish, but the nausea was negligible.

The vague shapes of trains lurked before him. Some cars were de-railed, flopped on their sides or upside down. The filcher entered the labyrinth, senses reaching out to avoid an ambush. Clockwork bodies littered the ground, still intact but no longer moving.

The blonde kicked a couple thoughtfully, wondering if Gorman's consciences had fueled them all. It was a little difficult for the teen to grasp such a concept. It also made him wonder what Gorman might have experienced through them. Did he see through their eyes? Did he hear through them? What did Gorman learn through the Unknowns?

Link frowned, sloshing through the mud as his thoughts turned over each other inside his weary mind. He finished off the rest of the potion, storing the empty bottle.

There wasn't really any reason for the Sages to keep him, other than as their bag boy. Link did everything they asked, nearly without question. They claimed he was the Hero, told him it was his job to kill Ganon and save the Princess. He hadn't done anything to move towards that goal except for errands. In fact, they wouldn't even have a way into the castle with the crests if Link hadn't been tumbling all of the blasted things.

Who's to say there was ever a Zora in the Yards? They could have been setting him up the entire time. Trisana was the only one who treated him as a person. His trust in her was waning, knowing that she was helping the façade to keep his deeds known by the public.

Ganon had to know what he was doing. The leaders of the various places he'd overthrown were proof of that. Mongoblin was sent purposely to see him. Gorman was sentient enough to be able to have had long discussions with Ganon.

Yet who was it that knew where Link was headed each time? The Sages. Viscen already admitted that they'd been messing with his marks just after he'd awoken. Is that the betrayal that Gorman spoke of? Was there something else that the blonde wasn't aware of?

That brought up earlier questions: was there a spy in the Sages? Where they guiding or being guided by Ganon? Did the Sages work with Ganon?

The last didn't seem very likely. They were going through a good amount of effort to kill him when no one would notice if someone knifed him. Unless Ganon didn't really want him dead, which didn't answer anything and only spawned more question. A lot of things weren't adding up.

The blonde halted and leaned against a half submerged car spilling metal scraps into an uneven wall. He began to scrape what mud hadn't been washed off by the steady torrent. He was cold, wet, and tired. None of the trains he'd passed were much in the way of shelter. Half the cars were full up or the doors were rusted shut. The tracks seemed to be placed randomly and Link had trouble not tripping.

Reno was still quiet when the filcher pushed off from the car and continued through the maze. He just needed shelter for the night, that's all. The rain continued to fall mercilessly and the blonde moved in silence. Sipping on another bottle of potion to keep up his energy until he finished off the bottle, Link peered through the gloom.

The passing of time was lost to the pair, both focused on finding shelter or a way out. Link paused in front of a train still firmly on the tracks. It had only one car attached to the engine, still on the tracks and in good condition. The thief approached the car, sliding open the door to a red film with gold swirling about to shape a tornado.

An idea tickled the back of the blonde's mind. He had a feeling he knew what the barriers represented, other than a crest. The thought gave the filcher pause, enough so for a rat's face to suddenly lunge from the barrier, hissing menacingly.

Link didn't think, his arm diving through the barrier to soak it up and grab a fist full of fur. He dragged out Lackwit, throwing him to the ground and drawing his blade in the next breath.

Lackwit scrambled to all fours, eyeing the blonde sullenly before giving a half-hearted hiss and scampering off into the dreary night.

"Well. We found a place to stay." Link muttered with amusement.

He threw everything but the crest out of the car, dropping his pack to the floor with a satisfied sigh. Opening the door, he crossed over into the engine, staring at the controls hopefully. They were lit up, which was a plus; but Link had no idea how to get the thing moving.

"Hello and again welcome."

Link nearly jumped out of his skin, back peddling away from the expressionless feminine voice that seemed to resonate around him. His elbow banged the wall and the thief gave a yelp, wincing as he tried to find the source.

"Are you still there." The question was more like a statement, no inflection in the unfamiliar voice

"Yes…" He answered hesitantly, pushing off the wall he'd cowered against. His face flushed a moment went he realized it was the _train_ speaking to him. "Who are you?"

"I am the Engineer's Personal Onboard Navigation Assistant. You may call E.P.O.N.A."

"Uh…Hello Epona."

"Who are you."

"Link." The teen replied after a moment's thought. He stepped towards the control panel, noticing the embedded blue light flickering on and off with the sound of the voice.

"Greetings, Link."

"Can you move the train?"

"Yes, Link."

The teen frowned for a moment, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt Reno clamor up to his shoulders. "Get it moving, then."

"Illegal operation. I can't do that, Link. Debris is on the tracks. Please remove, so that I may comply."

The teen sighed, tired of doing other's bidding.

-----=

E.P.O.N.A. was parked a few miles from Kakariko, tucked inside on abandoned station. Link walked through the bustling town, wondering if he should have brought the train into town after all.

Distrust of the Sages had kept him from bringing it forward so far. He didn't want Errol and the others to take it away from him. Chris would probably want to dismantle the entire thing to find out what made it move. From what Link could see, there wasn't any type of fuel. He didn't have a horse anymore. He would be damned if he had to walk everywhere.

In fact, he didn't plan on doing any other errands for the sages anymore. He was the more obvious choice to make decisions for the group of incompetent fools. They guessed and prayed; owing their allegiance to a supposed princess whose awakening was prophesied to bring on the end of the world.

They seemed to have lost focus. What were they trying to do right now? They should be trying to unite what was left of the continent under one command. Instead, they allowed the Gorons and the Zoras to stay under their own rule, separate from humans.

They could be useful in the battle. They just needed the right leader to take them into the fray. Link knew war, understood it far more than he ever realized. He was raised to rule, groomed to orchestrate the final showdown with Ganon by the man himself.

The Book was uncanny in seeming to know the events, but Link questioned it. Humans were far too erratic to predict. Free will tended to do that to a species.

-----=

Hask watched Link stride through the streets from the rooftops, red eyes narrowed at the tall graceful figure. The blonde seemed to have gotten taller, gaining more of a ground-eating stride. People moved away from the impressive figure he cut, completely armed and seething with violence.

It was a drastic change from the young man she'd met in the ruins.

Reaper's boots scuffed the tiles at her back, but made no comment. She couldn't help but wonder what the other boy thought of their hero. Where there had once been caution and quiet strength was replaced with arrogance that there was nothing that could stop him.

It was hard to say how Hask could sense such a thing. It was more than the self-assured walk, the way Link seemed to disregard his surroundings. It was warrior's intuition whispering in the slightly pointed ear that the blonde was not the same.

Scarlet eyes flicked back to meet gold, both silent until the teen turned to the Mayor's Mansion.

"I'm surprised ya didn' jump inta his arms, lover-like." Reaper pointed out after a moment, his face split by a toothy grin.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to rip out his throat just for fun." Hask replied after a moment, wondering if she'd imagined the new power that seemed to radiate from the blonde. "We're on watch. I've no time to chase him down."

"Git on, then. We need ta reach our post afore the next bell." Reaper pointed out to the milky-haired girl. Hask made a face, but straightened and started over the roofs towards the gates.

Reaper watched her go for a breath before turning back to towards Link. What Hask perceived as a threat, the half-crazed Reaper saw as a kindred spirit. Link was close to being swallowed by the madness and the foolish teen didn't even realize it.

The teeth bared in a less than friendly expression. The blonde was less than qualified to survive the force that was gathering inside him. The black-haired boy hoped he'd bear witness to when Link lost control so their monsters could duel to find the strongest.

------=

Viscen lunged at Link, blade sweeping at the teen's stomach. Link sidestepped the move, ducking the next swing and rolling away from a vertical slice. Link kept the Master Sword in his hand, the hilt smoldering his bare palm. His azure eyes were narrowed, staying one step ahead of the watchman. The black eyes were cold stones, set in shadows beneath the thin brows.

He didn't want to hurt the older man, so he kept to the defensive. There wasn't anything to gain by humiliating the guardsman. He would need Viscen when he took of the Sages. It wasn't as if he wanted to fight. This was Viscen's idea and the man was too stubborn to take a hint.

It was bad enough the Sages couldn't seem to utilize their forces to the maximum abilities. Their competence for fighting a war in the shadows was laughable.

Link could run the Sages better, without a doubt. It was what his Gramps had trained him for, he was sure. Perhaps that's what Ganon wanted from him all along, as a war leader. Perhaps the leaders he had been taking down were just tests.

An interesting thought, but not one that Link was ready to examine too closely. He didn't exactly trust Ganon.

Link twisted from a quick stab, doing a hasty back flip to avoid the horizontal strike follow-up. The frustration was clear on the taller brunette's face. The lanky teen was just leading him circles around the ring. He needed to test Link's fighting abilities. He couldn't send the boy out if he didn't think Link could defend himself. This fight was a joke.

"How do ya 'spect to win if ya won' strike back!" Viscen demanded, snapping out a foot that caught the teen off guard. He jammed the teen's calf, making him stumble. Viscen slid into the open guard, jamming his hilt into the soft stomach. "Are you a jock or a gilly? Fight back!"

Link's cerulean eyes widened as his breath was forced from his lungs. His body pitched forward for a beat, anger flooding his veins as he dropped and rolled to avoid a nasty strike at his head. Stopping in a crouch, the blonde leapt towards the older man, all patience gone.

Viscen was forced into the defensive at the sudden onslaught. The blonde was a flurry of movement, eyes unforgiving orbs of sapphire fire.

----=

Trisana watched from the balcony as Link began to take the offensive. She felt the pressure of another at her back. She didn't bother to turn; she knew it was Errol from the clean smell that teased her senses. He didn't touch her skin, unable to handle the poison that so easily slipped from the delicate casing.

He didn't speak either, but neither did she. She hadn't initiated a conversation for the past few days. Avoiding all company, she stayed in the background to puzzle over the recent changes. Someone who wasn't Shifted wouldn't understand, but for the emotions that were now dormant; the moth-Shifted felt she must try.

"It seems the opposite is happening to Link." Tris started, the sound of swords clashing sharp even from so high above the battle.

"What's happening to Link?" Errol asked quietly, gray eyes drawn to the pair sparring below.

"He's losing control of his emotions. They're driving him to do things that he wouldn't before."

"How is that different from you?"

"I seem to be losing whatever made me human."

"You're being silly. You're still human." Errol replied, fingers hovering just above her flesh and tracing the line of her face. She gave him a sad smile, something within her appreciating the gesture.

"Appearance wise, yes. What separates man from Unknowns?" she asked softly, waiting a beat before answering her question. "Empathy and sympathy. Those feelings binds them together inside a person, controls all strong emotions. The ability to understand another's plight, sympathize with them. It's a driving force, making humans volatile and dangerous. To be human is to love, to dream—"

"To die." Errol finished, watching her turn and search his face with curiously flat eye. He loved this woman, could feel the fierce protectiveness rise inside him to drive away whatever made her so sad. "You're saying you're losing yourself?" The mayor sounded a little unsure, not wanting to believe such a thing was possible.

"I feel so removed from the rest of the world. I see things happen, I understand them, but it doesn't move me like it used to. I find that I'll acting as if I'm a human more than anything lately. I don't know how far this detachment will go." Trisana paused for a moment, watching Link nearly slip past the watchman's guard. "I can only imagine how much more intense it is for one more Shifted than I."

-----=

"What's the matter, old man?" Link taunted, sweeping his blade up and knocking Viscen's strike wide. "You wanted me to fight and you can't handle it?"

The watchman grimaced, but couldn't get the air to reply. The blonde was tenacious with his attacks, his endurance outlasting the older man's easily. The thief faked a lunge, the tired guardsman falling for it easily and swinging up his blade to try to block. Link changed the direction of his strike, driving the blade deep into the man's thigh.

Viscen screamed, stumbling back weakly but managing to keep hold of his sword. Link yanked the Master Sword free and stared down at the brunette, annoyance on his features. The watchman shoved his palms against the wound, no longer roaring in pain, but hissing his breath between clenched teeth.

"I told you that you'd regret it." Link stated bluntly, turning striding to the edge of the circle of stunned guards. The teen gave a careless flick of the blade, blood easily shed from the mirrored surface. He sheathed his blade and backhanded a guard in his way casually. The man yelped and looked prepared to commit murder until he saw the look on the teen's face. "Better call a medic, fool. Unless you want him to bleed out."

A few men scurried away to comply, leaving the blonde a clear path back to the mansion.

-----=

"You're going to the Zora's Domain." Monk pointed out wickedly. Link had walked straight up to Chris's lab, ignoring Monk and Errol.

"Like hell I am, old man." The teen replied thoughtlessly, turning the page of the Book and scanning it. "Why would I do that? I think I deserve a curst break."

"Viscen can't do his duties thanks to you." Monk responded. The blonde snorted and turned his blue eyes to the Monk's.

"That's Viscen's fault, not mine. I warned him." Link pointed out. The teen dragged a finger along the scrawled words on the edge of the page. He frowned a little before closing the book and letting his chin rest on his palm. "What's in the Zora Domain, anyway?"

"The Zora you were supposed to find and help in the Yards might have returned there." Errol spoke up, eyeing the teen carefully. He mulled over Tris's words from earlier that day. Link seemed just as removed from his emotions as the woman unless someone prodded him into exploding. The blonde was now like an alpha male, confident in his superiority and not feeling the need to prove it. It worried the taller man, seeing how it was a complete turn about from the teen's normal personality.

The blonde scowled, looking none too pleased with the information. "That Zora again? Why's it so important?"

"The Zora was gathering the needed parts to fix the water purifiers. If they can get their Domain up and running, it'll clean out the lake." Errol answered, cutting off a nasty reply that seemed to dance on the edge of Monk's tongue.

"Are we ever going after Ganon?" Link asked, blue eyes curious as he looked at the taller man. "I'm doubting your words. It seems as though I'm just doing damage control all over the country."

Errol pressed his lips in a thin line, not liking the boy's tone. Monk snorted, gaining Link's attention.

"Do you think you're ready? Do you even remember that you don't have all the necessary crests, Hero?" The bald man taunted. For once, Link didn't rise to the bait, just staring at the man in contemplation.

"I think there're going to be some changes in the Sages when I get back." The blonde said thoughtfully as he stood.

"What makes you so sure of that?" Monk asked in a patronizing tone. The blonde threw him a look of indulgence, not bothering to answer as he strode towards the door.

The men watched him leave, both throwing glances at one another.

"The boy's gotten cocky." Errol muttered as he sank into a chair. "I'm starting to think we made a mistake with assuming he'd be the hero in the Book."

Monk grunted and rested a hand on the Book thoughtfully as he stared at the door. "I believe I said something similar at the beginning."

The cool blue eyes flicked to the Mayor and down at his hands. "The boy has the potential, just not the temperament. More likely to bite the hand that feeds it."

Errol remained silent for a breath as he let his head rest on the back of the chair. "'With sword and steed he travels/To the domain of life's drink/Finding it dry as the desert/Breaking the seal to free the flood/Riding the wave from the void.' You think he'll be able to at least finish this mission?"

The bald man snorted, eyes flicking to the balcony before finally giving a grudging answer. "It doesn't matter either way. Destiny is a tricky thing." The old man sounded bitter, fingers gripping at the stone in frustration. "Destiny delivered me and my brother to guard the Princess. Did he die because fate dictated it? Were we doomed for failure when this all began? Honestly, I don't even think that any of this was supposed to happen.

These kind of things happen when you try to play with fate."

-----=

A/N: Ok, that was a long hiatus. I got someone else reading the chapters. I should be back up in business for a little bit. I have two chapters written out. I just need them proofread. I only have a couple more chapters to go before I finish the story…


	15. Competence

The female zora reached between the gears of the pump, trying to wedge her body closer to reach the damaged parts. A growl escaped where a string of obscenities could not, her thin lips unable to move since it held the extra screws and widgets. The gills along her side fluttered and the zora engineer paused for a breath to wipe her brow with the damp rag hanging on her neck and returning to the task of replacing a broken gear and rusted widgets. Her tiny scales were a dusky teal along her back, fading into the silver of her underbelly. A coral hue on the flesh extended between the delicate green spines of her pectoral fins that were flush along her arms.

Where other zoras had long, tapered tail-fins protruding from the back of their heads, Ralalu had a short stubby one with large flat fins. It fit well with her unusually stocky body decorated with wispy coral colored swirls. Gold speckles lined where her eyebrows would normally be, gliding along the edges of her face and tapering down her neck to her meager lumps.

A heavy belt rested snug on her thin hips. Pouches hung bulky with extra parts. Tools in a wild assortment ranging from wrenches, sockets, screw drivers and clamps were tucked in corresponding leather loops on the twin belts crossing her chest from shoulder to hip. A monkey wrench and crowbar hung on her back, both barely shorter than her five-foot frame.

The sounds of fighting echoed off the tangle of pipes and engine works, barely calling for the young zora's attention. She could feel another fracture in the wall to the cylinder casing. Nimble fingers gave a deft twist, ignoring the grunt of the swordsman battling what sounded like tektites to Ralalu's sensitive hearing. Replacing the gear, she reached into a pouch and pulled out a tube and unscrewed the cap. She squeezed the thin metal tube and filled the crack with caulk, carefully smoothing it over until it sealed it completely. Replacing the tube, Ralalu crawled through the pipes where she knew a –

"Hurry the hell up, fish girl!" Link roared from outside the sanctuary the zora navigated. The engineer's emerald eye twitched and her concentration shattered.

"Shut your bloody mouth, sword!" She snapped, dropping the two screws and widget in the process. They clinked and panged off the pipes and engine with Ralalu's curses following. Growling, she used pliers on the broken wing nut, tucking in the useless part in her junk pouch and continuing to repair the tiny parts that held her precious machine together.

Link cursed again, cutting off the legs with a quick swipe before impaling a leaping tektite. He shook his damp bangs from his eyes, flinging sweat. Ash settled to fall through the grated floor. No more of the leaping Unknowns erupted from the large pipe set in the granite and coral wall near the dripping ceiling. Most of the rooms resembled the one he stood in, an eerie mix of the ocean floor and machinery. Not clockwork, as Ralalu had corrected empathetically.

_Like I really care what the hell she's trying to do._ Link grimaced and sheathed the Master Sword, the palms itching and burning beneath the leather of his gauntlets. The exposed fingers were an angry red and the blonde was hard pressed not to rub the flesh. If the sword weren't ten times more effective than his last sword, he wouldn't bother. The outcome overrode the consequences.

Link pulled out his map, wincing at all the rooms they had gone through in the past few hours. The entire plant was composed around a circular main chamber. The various components were spread on seven levels that involved clamoring down pipes, vines and bulky equipment. Reno suffered through the indignity by staying on Link's shoulders. The depth they were going was starting to bother Link. The air would start to press against his body soon, he was sure.

_If I knew it was going to be this troublesome, I would have just let her come in here alone. _The blonde thought in disgust. His insistence that Ralalu needed his help was the only reason he was down here to begin with._Of course, I should have suspected that this cursed mission wouldn't be easy when Monk looked so pleased with charging me with it. That's what I get for letting Viscen bait me, though._

The teen let out an explosive sigh, tilting his head back to let the cool dripping water caress the warm flesh of his forehead. He let his eyes slip to the side and meet the violet of Reno's. The fox hadn't spoken much since they left Kakariko. It would bother him, but the weird dungeon he'd wandered into was far more troubling. Where the Yards had been overwhelming alive, this one seemed near death. With each room and every piece that Ralalu rebuilt, the pulse became steadier and more evident. It didn't take long for chests of rupees and small keys to appear.

Ralalu didn't care either way, as long as it gave her easy access to each of the rooms to tinker with her precious machinery. She didn't seem to care that the Unknowns were tricky. Steel urchins, pollywogs in bubbles of water, keese, clams and blobs of jelly were of no consequence to her. They couldn't reach her in the shielding maze of pipes she dwelled in.

"Done." She announced, more to herself than for Link's benefit. She swung out of the mass of pipes and headed for the door. "Next floor down. We're going to hit the stagnant water."

"You said that the domain was completely dry." Link pointed out. The world on the outside was a series of bowls and rocky overhangs that would be waterfalls. The Domain was situated on top of the plant and had some role in helping to clean the water during the final stages. The zoras that waited out there were pitiful, bodies graying and cracking from being dry for too long. Lethargic and weak, they curled upon themselves in the dirt, unable to respond to anything.

Green eyes flicked back over the thick shoulder, tilting her head since she barely reached his shoulders on her toes. He'd been disturbed by the sight of her pod in the condition they were in. Ralalu knew it had more to do with their very freakishness than empathy. The fox hadn't even spared them a look. If she were concerned over such things, she would have refused Link's help then. It was practicality that made her accept his help. Though she hid most of the time, the Unknowns were a bother when she needed to switch rooms. Viscen had been just as helpful during the early stages.

"We're a few hundred feet under ground. The water down there has been there since the Shift. One or two zora is fine, but an entire pod of them?" She gave him a bland look. Sometimes she thought that Link was entirely too thoughtless for his own good. For as high and mighty as he acted most of the time, he didn't seem to think beyond land.

She led Link to the main chamber, swinging down the side and sliding down the vines to the next level down. She could feel the imminence of finally getting the old plant running again. She just needed to figure out what was blocking the intake and outlet pipes that were at the deepest part of the plant. She ignored the long-eared boy as she felt along her connection to the machines for the next area that required her attention.

The plant had originally taken water in from four sources; Kakariko (now Crow Bait Lake), the river that used to run through Dolstrol (now ruins and the river dried up), Troston (now a swamp and no longer letting the water flow towards the ruins); and various underwater springs that dwell beneath Narein (now Death Mountain). The treatment facility would then process the water through various stages to remove the filth and pollution before pumping it back out to the various cities through a system of pipes. Ralalu already cut off the avenues to the river, not wanting her precious water be wasted.

Now Zora's Domain would only get it from two sources, but the Kakariko source was more abundant now that it was a lake. Eventually, the Crow Bait Lake would be habitable once more. The zora wouldn't be confined to just their domain. Of course, the goron would have their hot springs up and running soon. They didn't know of them yet, but Ralalu could feel them forming at the edges of her plant's reach.

A strange chiming noise sounded at her back broke her conversation. The zora frowned, giving a brief thought to how long she'd been working. She'd managed to finish off the repairs for the room. The emerald eyes blinked and she stuck her head out of the pipes. "What was that?"

"Uh…I opened the chest. This is…nice." The teen sounded a little perplexed and the fox that rode on his shoulder made a growling purr of appreciation.

The zora stared at the piece of jewelry the teen had managed to find in the large chest. He was holding it up to the light with one hand, letting the strange chain drape from his fingers. Three faceted, round sapphires were set in gold, the chain appeared to be the silvery blue hue of zora scales linked together.

"Looks like the engagement stone setting that's popular." Ralalu commented, not really interested in such things but curious on why it was in her plant. Link moved to place it over his head. She made a noise of warning. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why?" He gave her an indulgent look.

"You found it in a water treatment plant that re-made itself, attached itself to me mentally, and locks you into combat every few moments. Maybe it's planning to get hitched to you?" Ralalu pointed out, cocking her head to the side. Link's dark blue eyes flicked over the innocently glinting bit of jewelry warily before giving a shrug and dropping it over his neck and dropped it under his white shirt and chain mail. Link shook his chest to move let the necklace settle in a more natural position, looking smug.

The blonde gave a sudden yelp, grabbing at the necklace desperately. Ralalu raised a none-existent eyebrow as the strings of the white shirt were loosened and she could see the scales had latched onto his flesh. Blood leaked down the pale skin, soaking into the cloth. The fox jumped off, looking curious, but unworried as the teen stopped scratching at the jewelry.

"There's a lesson in this." Ralalu mused, swinging down and walking to the swordsman. He didn't look so cocky now. She glanced down his shirt. "Ouch."

Link growled in response, hand snapping out and wrapping around her neck. He lifted her off the grating, teeth bared in rage. "You little twit! What the bloody hell is this thing?"

Ralalu wondered briefly if she should struggle but decided against it. Since his fingers were cutting off the avenue that she spoke, so she settled for a quirked brow. The zora considered being worried, but Link's grip wasn't cutting off all her breath, just making it impossible to speak. What she found impressive was that he was able to hold her so effortlessly.

Alone, she weighed close to one hundred fifty pounds being stockier than the average zora. With all of her tools on, she reached closer to two hundred thirty at the least. The swordsman didn't even look bothered taking into account the last few hours had been almost a constant battle.

The cerulean eyes blinked, cleared after a moment and he dropped her. She didn't even stumble and just cleared her throat. "If we're done here?"

"Yes." He grated out, flushing brightly.

"Next time listen to me, sword." The engineer pointed out, striding towards the door. She paused at the ledge, looking down. "You can't go any further in any case. There's nowhere for you to get air after this. Not till we hit the Control Room, and you can't last that long."

The emerald eyes flicked back and met the teen's gaze. "You don't look like you can swim with all that gear, either."

"Who's to say I don't have a re-breather mask in my tunic?" Link countered, giving her a nasty look before glancing down at the water a few feet below.

"Well, let's find out, shall we?" Ralalu suggested in ire, giving his shoulder a good shove. The blonde gave a shocked gasp, wind milling before hitting the water heavily. The zora watched curiously a few moments, a little surprised when the swordsman didn't pop back up after a few heartbeats. Of course she did point out that this exact thing would happen, but he'd gone and smarted off at her and she lost her good sense in the process. "Oh, bloody. His corpse is going to pollute the water."

Ralalu dove into the water, elegant despite the added weight of the tools. The moment her face touched the water, the sensation of the second eyelid gliding over and making the underwater world as clear as the one above. She could see Link far below, sinking like a rock. He seemed to have given up on trying to pull his way to the surface and was holding his hands over his face in a vain attempt to avoid sucking water into his greedy lungs.

Gritting her pointed teeth in annoyance, she surged towards the swordsman. Her entire body snaked and wove through the water, knowing it was impossible to save his life, but wanting him out of the water at the very least. Bubbles expelled from her gills as she rushed, her lungs filling with the stale water.

Link watched with growing panic and horror as Ralalu glided towards him. His lungs begged for air, his body trying to breathe despite the only outcome would be death. All the gear on his back made it near impossible for him to even orient his body in the water. He hadn't been in anything deeper than a bathtub since he left the Kakariko cemetery.

_She's going to be too late, she won't be able to carry me back up, she's going to be too-!_

She reached out and he couldn't help but to do the same. Bubbles burst from his lips and he inhaled the fluid on reflex, gorging his lungs with the liquid. Pain ripped through his body, his mouth opening in a silent scream as he tried to breathe and clear his lungs at the same time. Heat built up along the necklace and blue light exploded from under his tunic.

She flinched and angled sharply, up and away from the dieing teen.

Link shuddered and seized beneath the light. His lungs continued to work despite the fire. The light dissipated slowly and Link drew in another lungful of water, but didn't feel like he was drowning. The blue eyes opened slowly. The blurry underwater world resolved to sharpness. He took another breath and felt normal.

He floated for a moment, trying to get his bearings. From the look of Ralalu staring down at him in shock, he wasn't the only one. He felt his face gently, but was confused on what he felt there. His mind couldn't quite grasp what had happened so he decided to just be pleased that he wasn't dead.

Ralalu approached the teen slowly, curious at the sudden transformation that occurred. His flesh had a distinct teal tinge of zora flesh. The tunic had streamlined to his body, the only thing that was free to wave and flutter being his hat.

Ralalu wove around his body. The teen watched her with large, luminous eyes. She hovered before him and nodded in satisfaction. The zora did a half back flip, kicking towards the depths. Link followed after a moment, feeling decidedly odd. He tried to speak, but his voice was garbled too badly to be decipherable. Ralalu threw a look over her shoulder.

**'Don't try to talk. You're no Zora.'** she informed him in a voice that echoed in his head. At his startled look, a self-satisfied smile twisted her thin lips.** 'Just follow me, sword.'**

The rest of the plant was cleared easily enough. There were only clams and jellyfish that Link dispatched without much in the way of effort. Ralalu opened the hatch to the last area, pulling her body up and into the control room. Link followed, surprised that the room was not filled with water. He rolled onto the dry floor, heaving the water from his lungs so he could process air once more. The green canvas no longer clung to his skin because of the jewel, but was still soaked through.

There was a thick wall of glass giving a view to the clear water. The room seemed to glow from the branches of coral that twisted from the wall and ceiling. Ralalu hummed as she flipped heavy switches and pressed buttons. There was a click as status board indicators flipped to inform the zora which areas were in working order.

"Good…good…just need to find out why the Kakariko intake isn't working…" The zora murmured as she skimmed over the indicators. "I think that the pipes are blocked…"

A dull roar and something slapping the glass caught both their attention. Blue and green eyes shot towards the window, showing a huge eel grinning at them from the water. Ralalu hissed a curse, but Link was already opening the scuttle hatch so he could enter the tank. The zora flicked him a look. The blue eyes met hers and he shrugged.

"I'll be quick, alright?" he looked utterly at ease. She frowned, thinking he was being foolhardy, but kept her thoughts to herself.

Link looked down at the circle of water, a wavering red shield with delicate gold depicting a pig beast taunted him. He sighed and slipped through it and into the tank.

The eel was intimidating. A zora was perched on it's back, looking amused and just as confident as the thief.

**'Took your time, didn't you?'** The zora crooned the teen's head. **'Guess there's no reason to rush to your death?'**

Link expelled bubbles in a sigh, wondering if all Ganon's followers had to do the useless taunts. He floated and had time to put his hand on the sword hilt when the eel flashed forward. Link jerked back, managing to slam his boots on the eel's snout. The eel's momentum jetted the long-eared teen into the wall. The eel roared, teeth flashing as it reared back to prepare for another strike.

He yanked his arm up, bubbles flaring around his form as he shot the claw forth. It caught the back of the eel's throat, dragging him towards the gaping maw. The zora riding the beast laughed manically, pointing up at what the blonde could only assume was Ralalu.

The wall of flesh rushed towards him, ramming into it with his shoulder as the claw disengaged and the jaw snapped shut. The throat rippled, trying to push the teen down into the waiting gullet. Crushed against the muscled tongue, Link braced his boots against the throat as he dragged a bomb free to roll down the working esophagus.

He had about a minute before the bomb would explode. The throat worked furiously, making it hard to reach back and grab his blade. Gritting his teeth, the burning tingle of the hilt finally met with his grip. A brief respite as the eel paused for breath, the throat opening up and the sword sliding from the sheathe. Just as the pressure was being applied again, Link drove the blade through the soft flesh allowing the muscles to push him down.

The blade ripped through the trachea, carving a path as the teen allowed his body to be swallowed. Water and blood washed over him, the muscles vibrating as a roar tried to tear free of the ruined throat. Bubbles spilled out of the gaping wound along with the gore. The eel began to thrash, managing to dislodge Link its wound.

Tumbling in the churning water and blood, Link tried to orient himself. Taking a moment to sheath the Master Sword so he c could concentrate on swimming, the teen flailed about. The machinery around him seemed to wake up, the gears grinding and pistons pumping. The water shivered as the suction from the pipe that the eel and zora resided in tried to drag the beast down.

Finding his bearings, Link turned towards the direction the bubbles traveled, hoping to escape before the massive Unknown ashed. Something latched onto his boot. Link twisted, surprised to see that the zora had pulled from the eel and was grinning maliciously at him.

**'Leaving so soon?'** The zora yelled, showing yellow, sharp teeth in a nasty grin. He laughed, the sound grinding against Link's mind.

Growling, the blonde kicked at the hand, but he couldn't break the grip. Link reached for his sword, but the eel chose that moment to ash. A whirlpool was born, dragging them both into the depths. Link's hands were ripped away from his sword, the swirling water pressing his lungs to the point the couldn't draw a breath. The zora latched onto his back, a scaly blue arm wrapping around his throat. The pressure increased and Link watched the world speed away from him as the world faded to black.

* * *

Ralalu looked down at the whirlpool, the splashing roar of the water music to her ears. Her green eyes scanned the surface, knowing that the chances of Link escaping the drag were thin. In fact, the chances of the long-eared teen's survival were near nil. Once he passed into the pipes, there were quite a few places to become wedged. Even if he could breathe under the water, he would starve to death or be crushed by the pressure.

Her conscience gave a twinge. She didn't like being the cause of the teen's death. It was a little sad considering he'd managed to kill the eel to before she finally got the plant going. It was a kick in the teeth. The stocky zora shrugged her shoulders, clamoring from the control room and into the pipes that would take her back up to the main level of the center chamber. His death had meaning in her eyes and did little to dampen the contentment now that her treatment plant was up and running again.

She would travel back to Kakariko and update the Sages on the condition of Zora's Domain. Now that the plant was up, the water level would return. The Zora were no longer in danger of drying up to empty husks. She would also have to fill them in on the fate of their errand boy.

* * *

Raliz dragged his body from the polluted lake with a great deal of effort. He coughed out the oily water, clearing his bruised lungs before managing to stand and look back at Crow Bait Lake. The spirits were screaming over the glassy surface, their pale bodies great white streaks against the night sky. The air trembled with the force of their rage at having the one they felt was responsible for their suffering in their midst.

Ice traced across the surface in lacy designs, cracking sharply in the air as mist began to gather. Their howls reached a chilling crescendo and Raliz couldn't repress a shiver.

He hadn't managed to kill the teen in the tunnels they'd tumbled through. The current had made it impossible for him to break the scrawny neck. They'd been blown apart when they exited the tunnel. Link had sunk towards the city while Raliz floated to the surface in a daze.

"Bloody…" He cursed, spitting out the oily taste in his mouth. He should go back down and finish the job, but Raliz didn't think he would survive the pollution. Link had magic to make the water pure, but the zora had no such protection. "I'll just have to wait."

He was ready to plop heavily onto the damp ground beside the lake when a soft footfall caught his attention. The zora tipped his head back, green eyes widening at the man who stood at his back. He stood in a rush, turning to bow to the Dark King.

"My King." Raliz greeted with mounting triumph. For what other reason would the Dark King Ganondorf be there other than to reward him for nearly completing the job he'd been assigned that no other had been able to achieve? He rose from his bow, green eyes meeting the glittering yellow before flicking back down to the earth. "How may I serve you?"

"You nearly killed him." The Dark King's voice was a rumbling bass that vibrated his very bones from the power that laced it. Raliz couldn't identify the emotion that seemed to taint the otherwise neutral tone. Perhaps it was disappointment that he hadn't finished the job as of yet?

The zora turned back towards the lake. The surface was iced over and from the groaning creaking, was getting thicker still. To trap the teen in the depths, perhaps? It was eerie, considering how warm the night was on the zora's moist scales.

"I'll finish him off when he returns to the surface." He informed King Ganondorf after a moment of contemplation. What would he receive for his success? "He'll not escape me a second time."

"If there's one thing I can't stand…" the Dark King began in an almost wistful, regretful tone. Raliz jerked at a burst of pain in his back before he lost feeling in his legs. He should have collapsed, but something was holding him upright. He looked down, green blood dribbling from the corner of his thin lips. Emerald eyes widened in shock to see the great gauntleted fist reaching from his stomach. "…it's competence when it's not needed."

Raliz turned towards the giant man, mouth moving but unable to give voice to the thoughts that tumbled through his mind. Ganon's face was a mask of pure contempt. The large man yanked his fist free of the zora, watching dispassionately as Raliz slumped to the ground. A heavily armored boot rammed into the delicate gills lining the fragile ribs.

"You almost ruined everything." Ganon stated conversationally, glancing towards the lake. The zora gasped wetly, breathe rattling in the lungs filling slowly with blood. Bones peeked from the gill slits "Luck has always been on that boy's side. I can't tip my hand quite yet, I hope you understand."

Ganon reached down, large fist grasping the thin neck and dragging the zora up as he began to lose consciousness. The olive skinned desert prince looked slightly bored, though his composure never dropped. He seemed to mull over the delicate figure hanging limply in his grasp.

"Doesn't matter whether you do or not, I suppose."

* * *

A/N: Ok, it's been a while. Problem is, I lost my Beta reader, who helped spur me into writing. Weak excuse? Maybe. But I don't like posting this without the second person that helped me think up the damn story. Not only was he my Beta Reader, but he was the person I bounced story ideas off of. I only have 4 chapters to go, so I'm going to see if I can manage to squeeze them out. That said, please post any critiques. I need some sort of feedback to know if I'm maintaining a smooth storyline.


	16. Suspicious

Monk slammed into the infirmary until an angry nurse imposed herself between him and the curtained off partition.

"Can I help you?" the woman asked frostily. Though she was slight in size, Monk grimaced as if she were some immovable object. Before he could open his mouth, the woman spoke over him. "This is a place of _healing _sir! There will be soft knocks, not bursting in like an Unknown on the hunt! You will conduct yourself accordingly and apologize to my patients!"

Monk blinked murky blue eyes, lips turning into a bitter twist. He had no intention of apologizing to anyone. Monk's mind swelled behind the tight mental restraints, wanting to slap the bossy woman to the side for getting in his way.

He had things to do.

"Ah, Monk. I was wondering when you'd visit." Viscen's voice drifted from the back. There was a note of pleading in the polite tone. "Please let him through, lovey? I'm sorry for the ruckus. He's so impatient."

The nurse sniffed, stepping from the tall Monk's path and walking back to another patient behind a curtain.

The bald man went to the partition that the voice had originated from, slipping through the barrier. The guardsman was laid up, chest bare except for sporadic placement of bandages. There was a bandage around the man's head; a cut along his cheek that was sure to accent the black-eyed man's features instead of mar them. A book was in the auburn haired man's lap, hand holding the pages open.

Houlihan stood by the window, arms crossed, and clockwork eye whirling and clicking excitedly. Monk wondered where Errol was off-handedly before quirking a brow at the injured guardsman.

"So. You make it back alive." Monk stated, sitting in an empty chair.

"You always have the knack for stating the obvious. It's been a week and this is how you greet me. Glad to see you do it to everyone and not just our little Hero." Viscen stated, auburn brow rose in mockery to the bald man's sudden scowl. The black eyes were weary and the guardsman looked at the book dispassionately. "What a mess. I should have checked on mines and Sheika Penal Colony sooner. They were a little…bitter."

"As if convicts are our greatest concern." Monk snorted derisively.

"They call themselves Gerudo. They're a tribe of women now."

"No men?" Houlihan asked, green eye bright with curiosity.

"None." Viscen confirmed, giving the odd man a speculative look.

"Hmm…there were surely men there before. Do you suppose the women killed them all and took their spleens?"

Monk and Viscen shared a look.

"I…don't really know. Why the spleen?" The injured man looked unsure if he truly wanted to know.

"There's a tribe of women in the desert with no men?" Houlihan either didn't hear or ignored Viscen's question.

"Yes?"

"Well. That's very rude." The erratic man huffed.

"…yes?"

"Surely there's enough desert to share with everyone."

"Indeed." Monk droned, wondering if the man had finally lost his last screw.

"The prison has merged with the mines. It's become a fortress. No one evidently goes in. It's overrun with Unknowns. The women have set up tents around the outside walls, though they've managed to carve out rooms in the sandstone." Viscen informed them.

"That's a lot of information. Did you get all of these arrows in you in their enthusiastic send off?" Monk asked.

"Perhaps he bartered with them. They are short of men and cannot function as a proper society without the ability to reproduce." Houlihan interrupted. He gave Viscen a dark look; both real and augmented eye focusing intently upon the guardsman. "How many spleens did you promise them?"

An uncomfortable silence followed the heated question. Viscen choose to ignore the man, turning his gaze to Monk.

"Ah. Their leader spoke with me after I was…neutralized. It helped that I just took cover and didn't attack them until they pressed my defenses. Still managed to overrun my cover." The guardsman winced, his hand free hand clenching in the book. "I'll live. What brings you here?"

"I can't sense our little Hero anymore." Monk informed them. "He was in the treatment plant and something happened. He just evicted my mental bug."

Viscen grunted. Houlihan's eye shuttered.

"Yes, Errol knows. Tris has isolated herself."

"Everything's starting to rush towards…something." Viscen murmured, worry creasing his brow.

"As tend to do." Houlihan stated philosophically, though he still eyed the guardsman with distrust. The two men ignored him judiciously.

"An ending, good or ill." Monk confirmed, though it was little comfort.

They sat in silence before sharp cracks and snaps broke through the normal babble of the city. The three jerked their gazes to the window, but they couldn't see through the buildings standing in their way. Monk sent out a mental search, trying to get a hint of what was happening.

"What is that?" Viscen demanded, hair standing on end from the chorus of crepitates. Houlihan was darting through the sheet, his hasty footsteps retreating quickly.

"Sounds like…ice. _**No way to leave the mortal plane/the Hero fights the heart of suffering and fear/souls now all to droplets turn and rejoin the world of Shadows.**_" Monk whispered, eyes dilating as pain, betrayal and fear cut across his mind like razors. The emotions snapped suddenly out of existence and a sense of something huge and malicious made the bald man snap his mental shields back in place. He shuddered from the contact, barely keeping the urge to gibber uselessly in check. "Goddesses help us."

Link felt as if he'd fallen into a hole and he could take no more.

He was weightless. Buoyed by the gentle currents of air that caressed his flesh and cooled the burning fever that seemed to ravage his body. Sounds were distant, muffled here. The distant resonance of crowds…or was it battle…there was screaming…it barely touched the teen on a physical and emotional level.

Curses, hateful whispers and outright rage filled screams feel on his uncomprehending ears. There were people around him; he could sense their presence around him, their emotions trying to batter him.

There was a crackling sound that drifted past the din, the sound of breaking. Sharp and clear, cutting into the teen with each snap. The fracturing tones cut into the teen's flesh, demanding that he open up his eyes.

The cerulean eyes drifted open, the sight of the Lower Levels beneath him. Light was hazy, breaking through the darkness almost grudgingly. Night must have been setting in, seeing as it was slowly beginning to dim. Link blinked, eyes flicking over the streets, looking for the people who usually occupied them. His people. His neighbors. His friends.

His family by choice, rather than blood, lived in that darkening city.

Was this real? Had the last…how long had it been? Had he been trapped in a nightmare? His mind was having trouble focusing.

Figures were flitting through the air, like wispy birds, but their movements were sensual gliding as opposed to the usual darting drift.

The blue eyes narrowed, the figures beginning to sharpen as they twisted close. Washed out colors, unresolved forms dancing about him in the curiously syrupy air. The strange apparitions seemed to find shapes as they danced around him. A mourning keen began to reverberate through the teen's very bones.

People he'd known.

People he'd lived with.

People he'd helped.

People he'd killed.

Link's mind asserted itself and the teen felt even more detached than before. These details didn't matter. He knew he was beneath the surface of Crow Bait Lake. He vaguely remembered the phantoms that had been dancing upon the lake. He knew that they posed him no threat right now. They couldn't touch him. Link didn't know where this conviction had come from, but he knew it to be true.

The teen lazily twisted through the water onto his back, looking up at the distant surface. The surface was curiously still. Sunlight still strained through it, but it was fighting a losing battle against whatever was slowly thickening over the top.

The crackling snaps finally made sense.

The surface was icing over.

The teen inhaled the curiously sterile water, twisting to look for another avenue of escape. He had things to do. He'd managed to miss the crest from the water treatment plant. He needed to go back and retrieve the damn thing.

The specters of the citizens were dancing around him, lanterns with multi-colored flames in their grasp, howling their rage and demands. No actual words, just sensations that battered the teen. Like having waves of icy fire surge upon his skin, burning and numbing at the same time. Link gave them a cursorily glance, ignoring the sensations with ease. They weren't a threat, as far as he could tell. He'd felt worse.

They seemed to stay at least three feet from him, in any case. He wasn't sure why none of them had tried to get closer. Though, sometimes it looked as if they were gliding against an invisible bubble, so the ghosts probably _couldn't_ get any closer.

'**Vassal.' **A voice whispered like a cold wind across the teen's mind.

The blonde froze, identifying the voice as Mistress Cooper. He didn't turn, since the mental voice didn't really give the teen a hint of direction. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

'**What.'** The blonde broadcasted. He wasn't sure why he couldn't speak with the zora engineer before. It all seemed so simple now.

'**You will free us.' **Mistress Cooper's spirit commanded.

'**Why should I bother? I'm not holding you here.' **Link replied. He glanced about until he saw the washed out, plump figure and quirked a pale brow at her.

'**Someone holds us.' **The ghost informed him, face impassive. The gray hair that had always been so contained and smooth before was a gnarled cloud twisting about her face. There was an unlit lantern in her hand. **'He refuses death and in turn, denies us our final rest.'**

'**That's nice. Why should I care?.' **The teen waved a hand dismissively.

'**So brash. Does death hold no meaning for you, Vassal?' **Those dead eyes seemed to bore into the teen's soul.

'**Death is something I won't have to worry about for a long while. It is my enemies that should prepare for it.' **The blonde pointed out, floating closer to the spirit.

'**We will trap you in the ice if you do not free us. We have had a full day to thicken the ice.' **The threat was a mere statement, a fact recited idly.

'**I will get out. Come now, spirit. Make your plight worth my time.' **The blonde gave a toothy grin, blue eyes hard as the stones fastened to his flesh.

'**Ah. Bargaining. Pointless.'**

'**Well. Good luck. Seems like you'll be stuck with me until someone else figures out how to get through the ice to free you.' **The blonde shrugged, not really caring either way. There was no way the spirits could trap him.

Mistress Cooper's Poe floated in silence, but the sensations of the communication between the other ghosts were battering against the teen's mind. There was no concrete thought, just a general sensation of outrage and demands. Link waited, secure in his knowledge.

Something whispered against his mind, nosey and rude. It took Link a moment to identify the contact as Monk. The teen blinked lazily and burned the mental touch. It recoiled hastily.

_So. He's been monitoring me. Goes to show how weak I was before to have not noticed. _Link thought, rage bubbling in the back of his throat. _I'll kill the Sage for his impudence. I will bring those fools to heel after I kill of Ganon. Our little agreement will be null and void then._

'**There is a magical crest. You will not get it if you don't fight the one who holds us.' **Mistress Cooper sent.

Excitement flared inside the teen. He was worried he would have to comb the sunken city of the damn thing.

'**Lead on.'** Link ordered; casting one more look to the slowly thickening ice overhead. There was a small part of him that was glad that Mistress Cooper didn't try to call his bluff.

'**Vassal.' **Mistress Cooper's form burst apart to swirl into a colorless streak of nimbus light, the dark lantern dancing before the Poe. It twisted around the teen once before aiming down into the depths.

Link twisted in the water, following with gentle kicks and weaving. The other ghosts were flitting about them in a gaggle. Their emotions still beating upon the teen, but the blonde pushed them aside.

He could see the haze of pollution he was swimming through, could feel it cling to his clothes and flesh. It was a thick, greasy film. The teen followed them through the twisting pipes, around buildings and sometimes, through old homes. Bodies were trapped, bloated and rotted with flesh beginning to slough off. There were no predators or bottom feeders in the lake yet to eat the dead clean. It made him feel a little sick, knowing he was filtering the water through his lungs that the bodies were rotting in.

The bodies should have bothered Link on a more personal level. At least, there was a distant part of him that thought he should be bothered. He couldn't exactly recognize any of the faces. Too badly decayed and ruined. He could make guesses, since he could recognize homes though. Besides that tiny seed within him, no other emotion rected beyond a desire to not be contaminated by their death..

'**Vassal.' **Widower Marks's spirit with an empty lantern floated close, eyes dark with the hate that was evident in the voice that grated on the teen's mind. Link didn't acknowledge the Poe beyond a pointed look. **'You go to the one who holds your leash. Tell your master that the Hero of Time will kill him.'**

'**I have no master.' **Link replied back, anger burning away the ghostly energies pressing against him. **'There is no Hero of Time, either.'**

Widow Marks whirled away, mocking laughter filling the teen's mind.

Link ignored the ghost, concentrating on following Mistress Cooper's trail. The phantoms following all paused as Mistress Cooper stopped in front of a shimmering red shield with a Trident etched in gold. The teen slipped through the shield easily, his blood boiling as he did.

It felt glorious.

Leaving the Poes of the Lower Levels behind, he swam downward. He knew where his target was. He was swimming to the same room he fought the Seraph. Link darted through a doorway that wavered like the surface.

He was a little surprised when he was spat out into dry air. He plopped wetly on the ground. He gasped and then coughed, water ejected from his lungs as he watched his body morph back into its normal appearance. Gasping a little, Link got to his feet, looking around.

The Seraph was in the middle of the grated floor, kneeling. The sword was held in gauntleted fists in front of the figure, the helmed head bowed. The wings were arched around the body. A lantern with many-hued flames hung from the Seraph's belt.

Link frowned, putting his hand on the Master Sword on his back. His palms were on fire when they touched the hit. He ignored the pain, senses sharpening as he watched the still figure.

"You intrude upon my meditations." Monk's voice echoed in the high ceiling chamber. Link frowned, confused. The helm raised and Monk's blue eyes looked out at him. Instead of the Seraph's face being covered, this time there was only a nose patrician. "I defied death to complete my mission. Why have you come?"

"To kill you." Link stated to see the reaction of the man, drawing the Master Sword with a raspy whisper and hooking his shield on his arm. "Who are you?"

"I am Error. Error Monk, brother of Bagu Monk, former Guardian to the Princess and the last of the Shieka." The Seraph introduced himself, standing and giving a slight bow at the waist. "You'll ruin everything, Vassal. Step down and I will not be forced to kill you. Live to serve your master another day."

_Error Monk. Brother to Bagu Monk. Hmmm…_

Pieces were snapping into place, Link's blue eyes gaining a soft yellow sheen. He twirled the blade, his palm screaming in pain from the heat from the hilt. It explained Monk's attitude towards him. Why he was sent on all these suicide missions. Monk was just too cowardly to attack him head on.

"Well, well, well. If you think you can actually get it right this time, you can try to kill me. I doubt you'll have much luck, seeing as you're dead." Link scoffed, rage boiling over and overriding the pain. "I'm going to kill you again, then I'm going to kill your brother. I may finish off Gannon first. Got a lot of payback to deal out, you know."

The Seraph's blue eyes flashed.

"You will not make it out of here alive, Vassal!"

The Seraph kicked off the ground, feathers from his wings exploding, leaving tattered bone frames behind. The flesh rotted through, the armor rusting and disintegrating. Link dashed forward, howling in rage.

He swatted the Rotting Seraph's blade aside with his shield, thrusting forward. The corpse nimbly turned away from the stroke, sweeping a foot out and knocking the teen's feet from under him. Error raised his blade and slammed it down, missing as Link rolled out of the way.

Jumping to his feet, Link dodged another swing, stabbing the Master Sword through the opening and knocking off a bit of the rotting right shoulder. Error roared, backing off a pace before pressing forward. Link shrugged off the strikes, parrying with his sword or shield. He grinned fiercely at the dead Monk brother.

"I'm better than you. Should I tell your brother I killed you again?" The teen taunted. Error screamed raising his blade over his head for a strike. Link flowed in like water, popping the Rotting Seraph in the face with the hilt of his sword, then the stomach, then bashing the overhead swing with his shield, disarming Error. Shock showed in those dead eyes a moment before Link beheaded him.

The body fell; a rotting corpse in tattered brown robes once more. Pivoting on a heel, Link sheathed the Master Sword, eyeing the steaming palm of his hand.

'**There is an Ocarina at the pedestal.' **Mistress Cooper's voice whispered against his mind. Link shrugged, wrapping his hand in ratty bandages, blood staining through them quickly. **'I will guide you to where you need to play.'**

The pedestal that Zelda had been on was still there. The shaft of light that cut through the gloom (but who knows where it originated from) still bathed the pedestal in an unearthly luminescence. Link swam across the water that separated the two platforms, managing to drag himself back out of the water and hack his lungs clear once more.

The stones were missing, which was a pity to a small part of the former thief. He felt around the base, fingers pausing over the Triforce symbol. He pressed it in and revealing a metallic blue colored ocarina. One crest was lying by the instrument, but it looked like it had been recently been placed there. He scowled, not wanting to travel back to Zora's Domain to grab the other, but resigned to it.

The sound of the forest, creatures calling out to each other from the treetops, filled the eerie stillness. A girl with sad blue eyes on the bridge before him, a wooden ocarina offered, a promise of continued friendship and a link to bind them.

A white horse thundered past with two passengers, one clutched by a militant woman, upon its back. The darkness of the sky was all encompassing with only streaks of lightening to break the gloom. A desperate throw and an object sailed past.

A tune piped and the howl of rushing, roaring wind answered the call. The dizzying sensation of being swept up from the ground by the twisting air was intense.

The teen frowned and shook his head, the haunting images and tunes of the instrument ringing between his ears.

He grabbed it from the disintegrated padding and tucked it his tunic, grabbing the crest as well. He glanced down, wondering when his pants turned such a dark gray. They almost looked black.

Link made his way back to the entrance, just holding the water in his lungs through the chamber he fought Error until he reached the other side of the room and jumping through.

Following the empty lantern through some back caves. His ears popped a few times on the ascension back to the surface of the lake. His head popped free and he yanked himself into a cavern.

He emptied his lungs, ignoring the oily aftertaste clinging to his tongue. He could see the faint light of dawn touching the sky through the mouth. The blonde walked forward, mildly annoyed when he smacked into an invisible barrier. The notion of merely leaving the cave dashed. The teen sighed, knowing that it had been too good to be true. He could expend a lot of energy to possibly blast through it, but it felt more prudent to conserve his energy for the upcoming battle he'd have with Monk.

Link glanced at the walls of the grotto, not surprised to see music notes etched across it. The teen frowned. He'd never played an instrument in his life, let alone read music. He gave a shrug and brought the instrument up, feeling his body rock to a beat.

He tested out a few of the scales before taking a deep breath and watching the notes on the cave wall.

The azure eyes flowed shut. His body moving to a beat he felt, as opposed to heard. He started to play an eerie Requiem for the Lost, the notes rising into the chilly night air. The notes flowed from somewhere deep inside the teen, teasing the currents of the night air. The Poes of the lake crowded around him, enraptured by the tune. They flowed apart to leave a path that Error's angry spirit floated down. The lantern of multi-colored flames flaring angrily and seeming to reach towards the surrounding spirits.

Error launched himself at the long eared teen, slamming against a strong mental barrier. The lantern attached to his spirit began to vibrate as the song assaulted Error. It touched his damaged soul in ways that were almost a violation. It attempted to calm, to soothe the savage rage inside the spirit.

Error beat against it, over and over until he felt a psychic lash strike him hard. The world dissolved to darkness and he floated, frozen in place. The reedy song continued and the world finally fell into focus.

A small island of sand sat in an endless expanse of water. A tree grew from the center of the tiny island and reach for the clouded, dark heavens. It was different from the mental plane that Bagu and Error trained in together, but the same in feeling. The sense of melancholy and lose were overwhelming for a moment, the sky roiling in response.

There was a dark form sleeping beneath the tree, Error blinked and walked closer. It looked like a wolf. The canine figure was wavering in the shadows and Error began to take a step forward to get a better view when his body jerked.

The spirit looked down at his chest, shocked to see a black gauntlet with a gold stamped design fist reaching through his sternum. His mouth opened and closed for a moment. There was no blood, this form was insubstantial, but the psychic force of the blow drained his power considerably. His mind hung on frantically, fraying beneath the stress.

The fist jerked out of the Poe's chest and the spirit gasped and stumbled as he twisted around to face his aggressor. It was the Vassal. His tunic was blood red, accented in gold. There was a intricately designed gorget around his throat. The dark red hat had a strange, gold stamped circlet over his brow, spikes jutting through his dark blonde bangs. The Vassal's eyes were a glittering yellow, cold and malicious as they looked Error over.

"You shouldn't be here, thing." The Vassal informed Error, the voice was deep and almost distracted the invading spirit from the sudden jab. "I'll help you leave."

Error blocked the next strike, feeling his mind strain under just a brush of contact. He became lost in defending against the vicious onslaught. He couldn't fit in any offensive moves and finally gave up trying, focusing on finding an opening to escape.

Back in the physical realm, the assembled Poes watched Error's spirit thrash in a silent, invisible struggle. The haunting, soothing music played on, the teen not wavering in the tune. Time ceased to have meaning. There was only the Vassal, Error and the Requiem.

The Error's lantern shivered and shook before finally bursting as the Requiem trilled into a climax.

The flames burst free, separating into individual colors to rip into the waiting Poes. A shrill, eerie cry of jubilation swelled with the piping melody. Color swamped the spirits, their lanterns encasing their flames. Wind picked up, screaming across the frozen surface of the lake and whirl winding inside the tiny cave.

The Poes rode the furious streams of air, their lanterns breaking to let the spirits free. The flames burst free from the cave, urged on by the rushing gale, leaving Error and the Vassal alone.

The Requiem finally trailing to a emotive conclusion, the teen coming from his trance to look upon the kneeling Error's figure. The silence was almost painful, the air dwindling into an anticipating stillness.

The blue-eyed teen stared down at the Poe, the emerald blaze having dwindling down to the size of a candle flame. Error was clutching at his chest, the rest of his body having dissolved into nothing.

"Just leave already." The teen growled, slamming his boot down on the lantern. The emerald flame was snuffed, Error's figure wrenching in silent pain before shredding into nothing.

Link turned towards the cave's mouth, a little confused to see that dusk had fallen. The smell of rotting flesh hit his nose. The teen frowned, face screwed up in disgust as he glanced around. Planted in the soft ground off to the side of the cave, a zora corpse was crucified. There was a ragged hole punched through the chest, delicate bones splintering through the flesh. The stomach had been ripped open, a crest resting inside of the gaping tripe.

This gift-wrapped crest concerned the blonde. This meant someone was watching him. The zora didn't crucify himself, which was obvious. Who was helping him? Someone was following his movements. It supported his growing suspicions about the so-called Sages trying to get him killed. Or did it? He was rushed straight here from Zora's Domain. That zora engineer may have known his destination, but how would anyone know to plant the zora by _this _cave?

Questions that needed to be answered, but the teen was willing to bet he wouldn't get them. He grabbed the crest, wiping it on the ground and hesitating at the site of blades to strap onto his boots to glide across the lake's frozen surface.

Someone was interfering far too much for the blonde's liking. Either way, he would continue on without the Sages. It was clear he couldn't trust anyone. He would gather the other crests and head to the desert. He could vaguely remember the passage speaking about the desert.

He'd kill anyone in his way. They were most likely traitors if they dared to get in his path to kill Gannon. The blonde blinked, fog was beginning to rise from the lake's surface. It was thickening fast.

It would take him two hours to cross the lake. The fog would make things more difficult. Especially considering how dense it was already.


	17. Over the Edge

The guards had been nervous all day. Honestly, they had good reason to be. Before, the day had been still and warm, the only noise was the cracking and creaking of ice from the mysterious flash-freeze of the surface of the lake. There was a sick sheen of oil tainting the irregular surface, tiny wavelets frozen in mid-motion.

Then the music began.

No one knew the source and it made the entire town nervous. It was a fluctuating trill for most of the day, with no rhyme or reason, somehow climbing into the still air and weaving thought the streets. The men sweat under their uniforms, fingers edging nervously towards their weapons. The villagers scurried inside as the unnatural tune drifted aimlessly in the air. The people shivered and held their children, the Lost growling and settling their weight uneasily as they eyed the source of the sound. They could tell it was on the far side of the lake, which was barely visible on the horizon.

The strange light display began near dusk, causing a nervous sweat to the townspeople and guards alike. There was a great cry as the multicolored flames burst, through the sudden influx of light in the darkening sky cast no shadow on the town huddled on the shore. The eerie flames danced on the horizon, almost beautiful if it weren't for the foreboding that it cause din the dwellers of Kakariko. The fires swirled and finally shot towards the heavens, finally winking out.

The piping music came to a warbling end, trialing off into silence that was a shock to the senses. When it ended, one would think the people of Kakariko Village would breathe a sigh of relieve. Instead, a singing tension was left in its place. There was something building in the air, beneath the dusk that bled into the tainted ice of the lake, turning it into a bloody pool.

The sunk sank below the horizon, the darkness shrouding the land. Torch-lighters went about their work, bringing flickering light along the curtain wall surrounding the little, and uneasy town. The quiet seemed superficial and stifling as the muggy air.

The warm air hit the ice, creating mist that floated up from the frozen lake, condensing into a thick fog that greatly reduced visibility. The guardsman glanced around nervously, hands clenching their weapons. The thick fog crashed into the curtain wall, curling upwards to fold back into itself. The great wave of cool moisture continued to build and swirl about before seeping between the planks of the gate and over the wall to roll through the city streets.

Soon, the fog had completely enveloped the town, beading on the stone and windows of buildings. It clung to the armor of the guards, dripping down as if to show the nervous sweat that was currently soaking their under armor.

Lights from the buildings were swallowed, shadows elongated and the world muffled. The Lost patrols were still with their un-Shifted partners, eye locked on the fog's source with an unnerving intensity. The townsfolk retreated indoors once more, leaving the guards to shuffle in agitation. The limited visibility gave them a sense of powerlessness, tapping some primitive part of their brains that feared the unknown.

There was no nervous chatter from the guards, just a tense silence, waiting to see what was going to break the tenuous peace. A scraping sound, like a blade being drawn across stone, broke though the fog, grating on the nerves of the guardsmen. It was a whisper that redoubled and muffled at the same time in the thick air. It was nigh impossible to find where the sound was originated from. It seemed to come from all sides at once.

The watch stood duty thirty yards from the lake's shoreline on the curtain wall and fidgeted with their weapons. The sound of the rhythmic shushing scrape was getting closer, but they couldn't see five yards, let alone thirty. The Private nervously put his whistle to his mouth, his partner motioning for the young boy who was the runner on duty to come from his hiding place. The terse message that there was something or someone approaching in the fog and that the guard should prepare to muster on a probable attack was given.

The runner dutifully took off, leaving the guards to squint into the miasma, which seemed to defy the light the torches threw off. The grinding rasp seemed to be right on top of the guards, who drew their bows in preparation.

Just as mysteriously as the noise began, it ended. The muffled silence piling on the stress as the guards shuffled, the creak of leather and their breathing too loud, making them more self-conscious. After a moment, the Corporal turned and angled the covers of the torches, so that their eyes could adjust to the darkness, the torchlight thrown back against the gray stone instead of out. The light was doing little good in any case, bouncing off the droplets of water and further blinding them. The Private made a soft noise of complaint, but settled at the signal for silence from his partner.

The sound of footsteps managed to work through the fog. The Private licked the sweat off his upper lip nervously as he tightened his grip on his bow. He dragged his forearm across his brow, forgetting that he wore a helm. The Corporal shifted his weight and leaned towards the edge.

"Who goes there?" He called with a voice strong and steady despite his growing anxiety. He signaled the Private, who raised his bow and notched an arrow, the wood creaking as he drew back the string. "Identify yourself!"

* * *

Watch Captain Karis looked up as the runner burst into his office. The wide eyed boy was breathing hard and covered in sweat, chill notwithstanding. The Captain frowned, setting down his pen and looking at the three other runners, in their pallets until needed, who were already preparing to leave.

"Cap'n sir! There's sum'thin' comin' up on Crow Bait Lake's gate!" the boy gasped, chest heaving.

"Unknowns?" Karis asked narrowing his eyes at the messenger as one runner pushed aside their pallets, another fetching a glass of water. They were limbering up, preparing to be sent to the other stations.

"Not sure, sir! It had Corporal Davies right spooked! He thought it better to start the alert, in case them nasty things are setting up an attack." The runner took a gulp from the glass that was handed to him, spilling some down his chin in his haste.

Captain Karis was about to reply when a shrill whistle began to scream through the fog in panicked blasts.

* * *

The footsteps stopped at the sound of the creaking bow. There was an uneasy silence before the Private's body jerked, an arrow buried in his throat. The Corporal gasped, flinching away from his dead partner in shock before an arrow punched through his helm and he fell over the wall.

The Sergeant at the base of the gate stared in surprise at the Corporal's body as it crashed to the ground before grabbing his whistle and blowing the signal for attack in a panic. The gates were barred and there was no way to open them from the outside, but the Sargent and his partner drew steel.

A figure suddenly appeared before the pair, fog blasting away for a moment as if the person had just burst from the thick air. In the dim light from the torches that weren't smothered by the fog, the body was black. The pants, boots, tunic, long hat, arms and gloves all seemed to be composed of darkness. The figure watched them, black bangs tangled and framing skin the color of shadows. The light managed to catch on the eyes, which gave off an amber sheen.

Both men took a step back as the shadowed figure pulled out a weapon, cocked back an arm with dark bandages hanging from the hand and threw it at them. The two went down hard, heads bashed with a nonlethal strike. The figure caught the weapon on the return path, hooking it back in the belt and turning on a heel to walk on. The shrill whistles of the guard sounded in the air, announcing their approach.

Link gave a low laugh, the sound rumbling through the fog and chilling the souls of the guards as they tried to fight the panic. The watchmen had no clue what was happening and the chaos that was erupting was confusing with limited visibility and strange, hollow noises from the fog. Link moved down Main Street like a one man army. The patrols called by the whistles and cries were easily brought down. The fog was too thick to see much more than an arm-length in front of him, but the boot strikes on cobblestones, the jingle and clank of the armor and gear gave away their positions and Link used his canny talents to take them down with boomerang or even just backhanding them if they got close. Cloaked in shadows and mist, no one got a very clear look at him.

The men were rattled. The invader moved at a leisurely pace, as if he were out on a stroll. The reports of the incident that Captain Karis would later read would be inconclusive. The man seemed to be pieced from the darkness, larger than life and everywhere at once. Unless there were multiple invaders that looked exactly the same, he disappeared and reappeared in different sections of the town. The scent of burned flesh, oil, stagnant water and death clung to the figure, cloying and sickening to anyone unfortunate enough to catch a whiff. The assaulter disabled or killed anyone who got in his way. Coordinated attacks did nothing, the man – they were sure it was a man – turned away blades with his arm, deftly sidestepped arrows and seemed to flow under the patrolmen's guard and take them down. The man never drew the sword that was peeking over his shoulder. He didn't have to.

* * *

Monk scowled, trying to see through the fog but the light from the double doors spilling onto the balcony made it nigh impossible. The bald man started to pace, sifting through the panic of the guardsman to try to discover _what _was going on. He could sense something approaching, ominous and huge. It pressed against the old man's mental barriers.

The air seemed to condense, then expand, a black figure teleporting onto the balcony and causing Monk to fall back in shock. He barely recognized Link through the taint that covered him from head to toe. The teenager even had the audacity to have grown an inch or two. Before Monk could respond, the teen showed his teeth in a malicious smile.

"Error says hello." The thief told the stunned man with malevolent glee. Monk's expression went hateful but the thief was quick. The bald man's head jerked to the side, his body obliged to follow so that he crashed to the floor from the savage backhand he never saw coming.

Link stepped over the body, striding out of the room and into the hall, heading towards Errol's room. There weren't guards inside the mansion. Not on this level, at least. The teenager could hear the chaos outside as the men still tried to pin-point his location. He had played cat and mouse with them, teleporting about the village to stir the confusion.

Link paused before Errol's room, kicking the door negligently. The boot actually slammed the door off the hinges, throwing it across the room to smash through the balcony doors and over the ledge. The thief strode into the room, smiling at the journal that was sitting on the desk, open to a page. He gave a rumbling chuckle as he read what was there.

"The desert winds howl and the sands raze the flesh from bones/Dangerous beauty that can slit a throat as easily as steal/Death clings to the fortress of stone and sand." He murmured, smirking. He closed the heavy tome and glanced to the side. There was a velvet bag, the seals settled on top. "Isn't that just luck? It's like they knew I was coming."

He swept the seals into the sack, tossing in the book. He tied it to his belt, turning just as Errol came to a skidding stop, eyes wide as he saw the phantom inside of his chambers. The mayor panted, grabbing for his rapier on his hip. Link seemed to glide across the room, the smell of burning flesh strong as he drew the Master Sword, smoke rising from around the bloody bandages. The thief didn't hesitate: he ran the man through.

Errol gave a shocked cough, blood spewing from his lips as Link laughed and shoved the blade so that the cross-guard pressed against the flesh. He pulled it free, watching Errol grab at the wound, falling to his knees and finally over. Link flicked the blood from his blade, cleaning the excess from it on Errol's slowly soaking shirt. He looked up just as Viscen limped into view. He gave the black-eyed guardsman and ironic salute before teleporting out.

"TRIS!" the guardsman roared; turning over the dying man as the Shifted woman seemed to materialize out of thin air. She looked vapid and uncaring down at the pair of men. "Heal him!"

Tris stared at Viscen as if deciding if she should listen or not. She looked at her hand and arms, covered by thick leather. The pounding of feed announced guards. She gave them a cool look.

"Carry him." She ordered the mend, starting to move towards her rooms. Viscen allowed them to take the man, turning and running down the steps. He didn't need to see where Link was going. He knew.

* * *

Link cheated to get to the former prison, now thieves' den: he teleported across the distance in large chunks. He rested twice for ten minutes to get his magic back before he finally topped the ridge to the view of the former Shieka Prison. The prison had been cut into the looming cliffs before living memory and was three miles behind the actual settlement. The prisoners had transformed the huge span of terraces stripped of dirt and mined for minerals into levels for their homes. Decades of strip mining hard reduced the area for miles around to barren desert. The near-white sand was loose and blown into wavelet designs across the broad expanses of emptiness. Rocky formations were scatter about the area, some skeletal trees remained standing for the time being beside them.

The prison itself was now a temple. Towering winged women statues framed the entrance, facing each other with greatswords in their hands buried on either side of the double doors. Link scanned the area with the binoculars, nothing in the back of his mind the positions of the guards. They had glaives in their hands and some steam powered guns slung over their chests. The watch didn't notice or didn't call the alarm over his presence so he discounted them as useful. The night was still, the dark and half-moon the only light for the teen to go by. Everything was quiet, empty of any nocturnal creatures that would normally stir during the wee hours. The thief pulled off the binoculars, inhaling the air that seemed tainted by ozone, his smile twisted in anticipation. He would force the colony below him to their knees to serve him. His private army to march upon Gannon's Castle as he toppled the fool there and settled in the throne himself.

If they declined, he would just kill them all. He refused to have anyone who would contest his regime. Soon, he would have the last piece and then he would have his wish.

Link winked out of sight, appearing at the base of the steps leading to the towering doors. There were letter inscribed on the blades of the swords in that curious script. His mind translated it easily: "By Wisdom, Power and Courage" and "Let he who has earned it bear the reward".

The thief climbed the stairs, flexing his fingers to loosen the stiff, pained digits. He could feel the heat of the Master Sword through the sheath and his armor. It was now a painful weapon to wield. His palms were blistered even under the gloves. The bandages wrapped around the palms were already stained with puss and blood that had soaked through the leather. It worried a part of the long-eared thief, a part that was distant and foreign to Link right now. Easily ignored and pushed aside. The Master Sword was needed to slay Gannon and he would wield it until then.

Afterwards, he might just destroy the blade out of spite.

Link walked into the temple as if he owned the place, as if it were already apart of his great country. He navigated the passages quietly, overcoming trials of rooms of quicksand and moving walls. It took him three hours to manage the great maze of the temple. He didn't even know if he was deep underground or high in the air. He'd gotten turned around, dropped down long falls, climbed so many steps, climbed and fallen again…even the map that Houlihan gave him was of little help. It gave the room his was in and a "?" in the section marked "level". Curiously, there were no Unknowns to challenge Link at all. Not even a rat. It should have made the thief paranoid, but he merely brushed aside the worry. Who would dare challenge the King of Hyrule?

Link finally came to a small door that opened as he approached. There was a blank red curtain shimmering in the portal and he stepped through, feeling the rush of Power fill his veins. The Master Sword began to burn and seemed to _push_ away from his back. The thief hissed in pain, unbuckling it and tossing the sword across the room. He snarled in rage, his back throbbing. The dark man nearly went over and kicked the blasted thing, but his attention was caught by the only other object in the room.

There was a tall mirror in the middle of the room, a heavy silver frame curling around it with a Triforce engraved in the top, the gold coating worn away on all but the lower left triangle. What was very odd was that the silvered glass reflected nothing in the room. Link frowned, stepping close until he saw the last seal residing _inside_ the mirror. An image shimmered into being behind it as he approached. There was a small island in the distance with a skeletal tree in the middle of the small hump of pale sand. A figure was curled under it, sleeping or dead. A dark shadow was on the other side of the tree. The long-eared teen walked around the mirror, frowning. There was nothing behind the mirror; just the back with no design, nothing really special about it beyond what was reflected. The teen stopped in front of it again and mentally shrugged, reaching for the seal.

His fingers touched the glass, the surface rippling like water. Emboldened, he plunged in his hands, fingers almost to the seal when three hands reached back _out _of the mirror, grabbing his forearms and one his neck. All were clad in leather gauntlets, the left with extra padding as if for archery, along with blue and silver accents. The right was backed with bronze mail with green accents in the leather. The one that grabbed his throat had gold plating, the arm so far out of the mirror; he could see the red color of the sleeve. A bright flash of light seared his vision and he was yanked into the mirror.

* * *

It was raining. He could feel it on his skin. It was warm, soft rain that had soaked through his clothing and drenched his hair. The scent that accompanied it was strange, clean. There was no taint of smoke, steel or oil. There was a hint of rich earth, but it was pleasant. A whispering hiss of the drops hitting the water and a softer patter of it striking wet sand dominated all other sounds for the young blonde.

Link couldn't remember feeling more at peace, especially when he had no idea where he was or how he got there.

He slowly pried his eyes open, exhaustion still deep set in his bones. Light filtered in through the clouds, not too bright which made it hard to pin down what time of day it was, though it did help revive his mind. He pushed himself up, the sand that was clinging to his loose white shirt and his skin washed away by the gentle shower. He stared at his clothing, confused. He was in loose white shirt, trousers and was missing his shoes. There was something staining his clothing, but it was washed away completely by the rain before he could identify what it was.

_What the 'ell is going on? Where am I? I don' recognize an'thin' about this place. Did Houlihan send me here? _Link frowned, squinting around him. There was water that was covered in ripples, but he couldn't see much even though the rain was a light shower. The sand under him was greyish white, the tree behind him skeletal with smooth, dark brown bark. He stood up, stretching as he puzzled what had happened. He wasn't worried, for once. He couldn't really remember anything concrete. _Where's Reno? Where're my weapons 'n armor?_

The blond ran his fingers through his soaked hair, turning in a complete circle as he tried to figure out where he was. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw himself standing in the water before him.

"What!" he squawked, grabbing at the empty air over his shoulder, then at his waist, more out of habit than anything. _How the 'ell did he get so close without me hearing? _"Who are you?!"

"Courage." The man replied in a quiet voice. Courage wore a green tunic and white leggings, sword hilt and the frame of a shield sticking up over the shoulder. There were hints of bronze chainmail peeking from under the tunic. It took Link a moment to realize that it was "Link" that had looked out of the mirror the first time after he dressed at the Hero of Time. The only difference was that Courage looked calm, capable and confident. Link, at the time, had been anything but.

_Who names their kid 'Courage'? Why is he dressed in my stuff? Well, kinda looks like my stuff. Did he rob me? Why does he look like me? _Link stared, a surreal sensation settling into him. His head whipped around at a clearing of a throat. Behind him was…himself, this time in blue and silver. The blue cloth was softer than the thick canvas Courage had. The tunic was longer, just past his knees, the silver mail lighter; arm and finger guards for archery. A quiver and bow were on his back, a thin rapier on his belt.

"I am Wisdom." The figure in blue informed the blond with a softer voice.

"And I am Power." A voice rumbled, jerking Link's attention in front of him. He hadn't even noticed Power! There stood himself in red and gold. The armour was heavier than Courage's and more impressive. A huge broadsword was strapped to his back. The figure was imposing, heavier in muscles where Wisdom was lither and Courage a comfortable middle.

All three were at the edge of the island, but not out of the water. Link's gaze flicked between them all, feeling increasingly alarmed and ready to bolt.

"Okay..." he started, holding up his hands slightly as if to stave them off. He looked between them warily as his mind raced to catch up. It was harder than it should have been. It was like his memories were called off, so he was just chasing his tail in his mind. "Where are we? Why are we here? _What_ are you? Where are my clothes and weapons? How do I leave?"

"He is weak." Power sneered, as if Link hadn't even spoken. The teen bristled at the obvious snub, face going hard. The red clad blonde eyed Link as if the blonde thief were a bug. "How can you expect me to believe he is balanced when he is going to wet himself?"

"He doesn't know what's going on." Wisdom countered, giving the red figure a wilting look. "Your chosen has upset the balance."

"Stop talkin' like I'm some lack-wit ninny!" Link yelled, shocking the two into silence. Courage quirked a gold brow, choosing to remain silent as the thief panted and looked among them. "I'm still tryin' to remember 'ow I got here. We're all stuck in the same boat, so how 'bout we work together to get out instead of y'all actin' like know-it-all jackasses?"

"You'll remember when you leave." Wisdom told the thief and blatantly disregarding the rest of Link's comments, flicking an imaginary bit of fluff from his immaculate sleeve. Link blinked, realizing that the rain had stopped, but he couldn't recall when.

"You're not bein' very useful." The blonde teen growled and eyed Wisdom distrustfully, making an about face and nearly crashing into a figure behind him. Link jumped back, the figure mirroring him exactly. It was him…again. This time made entirely out of shadows with red, glowing eyes. The Shadow Link gave a malicious smile, pulling a sword with his right and arming his left with a shield.

"Oh, come on! Really!?" The exasperated teen cried, jumping back as the Shadow leapt at him, landing with a wet plop in the sand where the thief had been standing a moment ago. Link was still weaponless and lacking armour. He felt naked. Water sprayed as he hastily rolled into the shallow water in a panicked move to dodge another strike. "You three jus' gonna _stand_ there?! Throw me a weapon! A shield! Anything! He's tryin' ta kill me!"

He didn't receive an answer and he ceased to care as he dodged and weaved around the black blade that whistled through the air. Link stumbled onto the island, falling on his back. His fingers clutched the sand, curling around something round and hard. He jerked up a baton, grabbing the other end to catch the blade before it could strike him down. The Shadow Link snarled, Link growling back, his arms shaking under the pressure as the blade bit into the wood to find the lead core. Link let the Shadow bear down over him, leaning into the thief. The blonde rolled back, yanking up to pull the Shadow off balance. Link braced his feet onto the dark finger's stomach and flipped him. Link twisted the baton, the blade deep enough that he was able to rip it from the Shadow's grip.

Shadow Link grunted as his breath was knocked from his lungs, landing hard on his back. Before the Shadow could move, Link was on him, burning the blade and driving it deep into the Shadow's heart. There was a breathless 'UGHN!' before light broke through the wound, ripping the Shadow Link apart.

The sword burst into ashes in the thief's hands and Link panted and swayed on his feet for a moment, shivering with leftover adrenaline. His mind was still scrambling to figure out what just happened. He stepped back; looking for the three that he'd almost forgotten existed. They were in formation, Power in front, Wisdom and Courage flanking just a step behind on the left and right respectively.

"Has he proven himself worthy, Power?" Wisdom asked as he looked at the red clad man, his voice bland. Courage looked downright smug, winking jauntily at the thief.

"He'll do." Power muttered grudgingly.

"Oh, joy of joys! What're y'all talkin' 'bout?" Link growled, advancing on the three. "Who and what are y'all an' where are we?"

"We told you who we are." Power replied slowly, as if Link were slow on the uptake. The long-eared blonde gave a very unimpressed face. Wisdom gave a small smile.

"We are the Power of the Gods, chosen." Wisdom informed him, who looked baffled still "This is unprecedented, I assure you, but there are extenuating circumstances that have brought this about. Normally we are not so…active. We are normally a passive element, but the balance has been tipped and she had little choice but to dabble as much as Power's chosen had to try to correct it."

"How nice. How 'bout where we are, now?" Link gritted through his teeth but Wisdom looked up towards the heavens.

"Oh, my. You should probably return before they kill you, chosen." Wisdom urged. Link blinked, confused until he realized the scenery was draining away, crumbling like sand.

* * *

A/N: Okay, been a while. I would like to thank Lignite, who lit the fire under my tail again. I've started on the last chapter. Not sure how long it will take. I didn't have a beta-reader for this, so please, please, PLEASE feel free to correct me on any errors I may have failed to catch or inconsistencies. Thank you so much!

Update: Fixed some errors, also realized there were no lines between transitions. No wonder there was confusion! I added a bit more dialogue, though I didn't change too much with everything before he meets the Triforce.


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